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THE

POPULAK SCIENCE

MONTHLY

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VOL. IX.

MAY TO OCTOBER, 1876.

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1876.

ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876,

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kUBTIN II

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

MAY, 1876.
SOCIETY AN OKGANISM. 1

BY HEEBEET SPENCER.

question, What is a society ? has to be asked and answered
at the outset. Until we have decided whether or not to regard
a society as an entity, and until we have decided whether, if regarded
as an entity, a society is to be classed as absolutely unlike all other
entities or as like some others, our conception of the subject-matter
before us remains vague.

It may be said that a society is but a collective name for a num
ber of individuals. Carrying the controversy between nominalism
and realism into another sphere, a nominalist might affirm that, just
as there exist only the members of a species, while the species con
sidered apart from them has no existence, so the units of a society
alone exist, while the existence of the society is but verbal. Instanc
ing a lecturer s audience as an aggregate which, by disappearing at
the close of the lecture, proves itself to be not a thing but only a
certain arrangement of persons, he might argue that the like holds
of the citizens forming a nation.

But, without disputing the other steps of his argument, the last
step may be denied. The arrangement, temporary in one case, is
lasting in the other ; and it is the permanence of the relations among
component parts which constitutes the individuality of a whole as
distinguished from the individualities of its parts. A coherent mass
broken into fragments ceases to be a thing ; while, conversely, the
stones, bricks, ajid wood, previously separate, become the thing called
a house if connected in fixed ways.

Thus we consistently regard a society as an entity, because, though
formed of discrete units, a certain concreteness in the aggregate of

1 From advance-sheets of the "Principles of Sociology," Part II, "The Inductions
of Sociology."

VOL. IX. 1

4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Evolution establishes in them both, not differences simply, but defi
nitely-connected differences differences such that each makes the
others possible. The parts of an inorganic aggregate are so related
that one may change greatly without appreciably affecting the rest.
It is otherwise with the parts of ah organic aggregate or of a social
aggregate. In either of these the changes in the parts are mutually
determined, and the changed actions of the parts are mutually depend
ent. In both, too, this mutuality increases as the evolution advances.
The lowest type of animal is all stomach, all respiratory surface, all
limb. Development of a type having appendages by which to move
about or lay hold of food can take place only if these appendages,
losing power to absorb nutriment directly from surrounding bodies,
are supplied with nutriment by parts which retain the power of ab
sorption. A respiratory surface, to which the circulating fluids are
brought to be aerated, can be formed only on condition that the con
comitant loss of ability to supply itself with materials for repair and
growth is made good by the development of a structure bringing
these materials. So is it in a society. What we call with perfect
propriety its organization has a necessary implication of the same kind.
While rudimentary, it is all warrior, all hunter, all hut-builder, all
tool-maker: every part fulfills for itself all needs. Progress to a
stage characterized by a permanent army can go on only as there
arise arrangements for supplying that army with food, clothes, and
munitions of war, by the rest. If here the population occupies itself
solely with agriculture and there with mining if these manufacture
goods while those distribute them it must be on condition that, in
exchange for a special kind of service rendered by each part to other
parts, these other parts severally give due proportions of their services.

This division of labor, first dwelt on by political economists as a
social phenomenon, and thereupon recognized by biologists as a phe
nomenon of living bodies, which they called the " physiological divi
sion of labor," is that which in the society, as in the animal, makes it
a living whole. Scarcely can I Emphasize sufficiently the truth that,
in respect of this fundamental trait, a social organism and an indi
vidual organism are entirely alike. When we see that, iii a mammal,
arresting the lungs quickly brings the heart to a stand ; that if the
stomach fails absolutely in its office all other parts by-and-by cease
to act ; that paralysis of its limbs entails on the body at large death
from want of food or inability to escape ; that loss of even such small
organs as the eyes deprives the rest of a service essential to their
preservation we cannot but admit that mutual dependence of parts
is an essential characteristic. And when, in a society, we see that
the workers in iron stop if the miners do not supply materials ; that
makers of clothes cannot carry on their business in the absence of
those who spin and weave textile fabrics ; that the manufacturing
community will cease to act unless the food-producing and food-dis-

SOCIETY AN ORGANISM. 5

tributing agencies are acting ; that the controlling powers, govern
ments, bureaus, judicial officers, police, must fail to keep order when
the necessaries of life are not supplied to them by the parts kept in
order we are obliged to say that this mutual dependence of parts is
similarly rigorous. Unlike as the two kinds of aggregates are in
sundry respects, they are alike in respect of this fundamental char
acter, and the characters implied by it.

How the combined actions of mutually-dependent parts constitute
life of the whole, and how there hence results a parallelism between
national life and individual life, we see still more clearly on learning
that the life of every visible organism is constituted by the lives of
units too minute to be seen by the unaided eye.

An undeniable illustration is furnished us by the strange order
Myxomycetes. The spores or germs produced by one of these forms
become ciliated monads which, after a time of active locomotion,
change into shapes like those of amoebae, move about, take in nu
triment, grow, multiply by fission. Then these amoeba-form indi
viduals swarm together, begin to coalesce into groups, and these
groups to coalesce with one another, making a mass sometimes bare
ly visible, sometimes as big as the hand. This plasmodium, irregu
lar, mostly reticulated, and in substance gelatinous, itself exhibits
movements of its parts like those of a gigantic rhizopod, creeping
slowly over surfaces of decaying matters and even up the stems of
plants. Here, then, union of many minute living individuals to form
a relatively vast aggregate in which their individualities are appar
ently lost, but the life of which results from combination of their
lives, is demonstrable.

In other cases, instead of units which, originally discrete, lose
their individualities by aggregation, we have units which, arising by
multiplication from the same germ, do not part company, but never
theless display their separate lives very clearly. A growing sponge
has its horny fibres clothed with a gelatinous substance, and the
microscope shows this to consist of moving monads. We cannot
deny life to the sponge as a whole, for it shows us some corporate
actions. The outer amoeba-form units partially lose their individuali
ties by fusion into a protective layer or skin ; the supporting frame
work of fibres is produced by the joint agency of the monads, and
from their joint agency also result those currents of water which are
drawn in through the small orifices and expelled through the larger.
But, while there is thus shown a feeble aggregate life, the lives of the
myriads of component units are very little subordinated : these units
form, as it were, a nation having scarcely any subdivision of func
tions. Or, in the words of Prof. Huxley, " the sponge represents a
kind of subaqueous city, where the people are arranged about the
streets and roads in such a manner that each can easily appropriate
his food from the water as it passes along."

6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Even in the highest animals there remains traceable this relation be
tween the aggregate life and the lives of components. Blood is a liquid
in which, along with nutritive matters, circulate innumerable living
units the blood-corpuscles. These have severally their life-histories.
During its first stage each of them, then known as a white corpuscle,
makes independent movements like those of an amrefca ; and though
in its adult stage, as a red, flattened disk, it is not visibly active, its
individual life continues. Nor is this individual life of the units
provable only where free flotation in a liquid allows its signs to be
readily seen. Sundry mucous surfaces, as those of the air-passages,
are covered with what is called ciliated epithelium a layer of minute
cells packed side by side, and each bearing on its exposed end several
cilia continually in motion. The wavings of these cilia are essen
tially like those of the monads which live in the passages running
through a sponge ; and just as the joint action of these ciliated
sponge monads propels the current of water, so does the joint action
of the ciliated epithelium-cells move forward the mucous secretion
covering them. If there needs further proof of the individual lives
of these epithelium-cells, we have it in the fact that, when detached
and placed in fluid, they " move about with considerable rapidity for
some time, by the continued vibrations of the cilia with which they
are furnished."

On thus seeing that an ordinary living organism may be regarded
as a nation of units that live individually, and have many of them
considerable degrees of independence, we shall perceive how truly a
nation of human beings may be regarded as an organism.

The relation between the lives of the units and the life of the ag
gregate has a further character common to the two cases. By a ca
tastrophe the life of the aggregate may be destroyed without imme
diately destroying the lives of all its units ; while, on the other hand,
if no catastrophe abridges it, the life of the aggregate immensely
exceeds in length the lives of its units.

In a cold-blooded animal, ciliated cells perform their motions with
perfect regularity long after the creature they are part of has become
motionless ; muscular fibres retain their power of contracting under
stimulation; the cells of secreting organs go on pouring out their
product if blood is artificially supplied to them; and the components
of an entire organ, as the heart, continue their cooperation for many
hours after its detachment. Similarly, arrest of those commercial
activities and governmental coordinations, etc., which constitute the
corporate life of a nation, may be caused, say by an inroad of bar
barians, without immediately stopping the actions of all the units.
Certain classes of these, especially the widely-diffused ones engaged
in food-production, may, in the remoter districts, long survive and
carry on their individual occupations.

Conversely, in both cases, if not brought to a close by violence

SOCIETY AN ORGANISM. 7

the life of the aggregate greatly exceeds in duration the lives of its
units. The minute living elements composing a developed animal
severally evolve, play their parts, decay, and are replaced, while the
animal as a whole continues. In the deep layer of the skin, cells are
formed by fission, which, as they enlarge, are thrust outward, and, be
coming flattened to form the epidermis, eventually .exfoliate, while the
younger ones beneath take their places. Liver-cells, growing by im
bibition of matters from which they separate the bile, presently die,
and their vacant seats are occupied by another generation. Even
bone, though so dense and seemingly inert, is permeated by blood
vessels carrying materials to replace old components by new ones.
And the replacement, rapid in some tissues and in others slow, goes
on at such rate that, during the continued existence of the entire
body, each portion of it has been many times over produced and de
stroyed. Thus it is also with a society and its units. Integrity of
the whole and of each large division is perennially maintained, not
withstanding the deaths of component citizens. The fabric of living
persons, which, in a manufacturing town, produces some commodity for
national use, remains after a century as large a fabric, though all the
masters and workers who a century ago composed it have long since
disappeared. Even with the minor parts of this industrial structure
the like holds. A firm that dates from past generations, still carry
ing on business in the name of its founder, has had all its members and
employes changed one by one, perhaps several times over, while the
firm has continued to occupy the same place and to maintain like rela
tions to buyers and sellers. Throughout we find this. Governing
bodies, general and local, ecclesiastical corporations, armies, institu
tions of all orders down to guilds, clubs, philanthropic associations,
etc., show us a continuity of life exceeding that of the persons consti
tuting them. Nay, more. As part of the same law, we see that the
existence of the society at large exceeds in duration that of some of
these compound parts. Private unions, local public bodies, secondary
national institutions, towns carrying on special industries, may decay,
while the nation, maintaining its integrity, evolves in mass and structure.

In both cases, too, the mutually-dependent functions of the various
divisions, being severally made up of the actions of many units, it
results that these units, dying one by one, are replaced without the
function in which they share being sensibly affected. In a muscle
each sarcous element wearing out in its turn is removed, and a sub
stitution made while the rest carry on their combined contractions as
usual; and the retirement of a public official or death of a shopman
perturbs inappreciably the business of the department or activity of
the industry in which he had a share.

Hence arises in the social organism, as in the individual organism,
a life of the whole quite unlike the lives of the units, though it is a
life produced by them.

8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

From these likenesses between the social organism and the indi
vidual organism, we must now turn to an extreme unlikeness. The
parts of an animal form a concrete whole, but the parts of a so
ciety form a whole that is discrete. While the living units com
posing the one are bound together in close contact, the living units
composing the other are free, not in contact, and more or less widely
dispersed. How, then, can there be any parallelism ?

Though this difference is fundamental and apparently puts com
parison out of the question, yet examination proves it to be less than
it seems. Presently I shall have to point out that complete admis
sion of it consists with maintenance of the alleged analogy; but we
will first observe how one who thought it needful might argue that
even in this respect there is more kinship than a cursory glance shows.

He might urge that the physically-coherent body of an animal is
not composed all through of living units, but that it consists in large
measure of differentiated parts which the vitally active parts have
formed, and which thereafter become semi-vital and in some cases
almost un-vital. Taking as an example the protoplasmic layer under
lying the skin, he might say that, while this consists of truly living
units, the cells produced in it, changing into epithelium-scales, become
inert protective structures ; and, pointing to the insensitive nails, hair,
horns, and teeth, arising from this layer, he might show that such
parts, though components of the organism, are hardly living compo
nents. Carrying out the argument, he would contend that elsewhere
in the body there exist such protoplasmic layers, from which grow
the tissues composing the various organs layers which alone remain
fully alive, while the structures evolved from them lose their vitality
in proportion as they are specialized : instancing cartilage, tendon,
and connective tissue, as showing in conspicuous ways this low vital
ity. From all which he would draw the inference that, though the
body forms a coherent whole, its essential units, taken by themselves,
form a whole whicli is coherent only throughout the protoplasmic
layers.

And then would follow the argument that the social organism,
rightly conceived, is much less discontinuous than it seems. He
would contend that, as in the individual organism we include with
the fully living parts the less living and not living parts which co
operate in the total activities, so, in the social organism, we must
include not only those most highly-vitalized units, the human beings,
who chiefly determine its phenomena, but also the various kinds of
domestic animals, lower in the scale of life, which under the control
of man cooperate with him, and even those far inferior structures the
plants, which, propagated by human agency, supply materials for ani
mal and human activities. In defense of this view he would point
out how largely these lower classes of organisms, coexisting with men
in societies, affect the structures and activities of the societies how

SOCIETY AN ORGANISM. 9

the traits of the pastoral type depend on the natures of the creatures
reared ; and how, in settled societies, the plants producing food, mate
rials for textile fabrics, etc., determine certain kinds of social arrange
ments and actions. After which he might insist that, since the physi
cal characters, mental natures, and daily activities, of the human units
are in part moulded by relations to these animals and vegetables
which, living by their aid, and aiding them to live, enter so much into
social life as even to be cared for by legislation, these lower living
things cannot rightly be excluded from the conception of the social
organism. Hence would corne his conclusion that when, with human
beings, are incorporated the less vitalized beings, animal and vege
tal, covering the surface occupied by the society, an aggregate
results having a continuity of parts, more nearly approaching to that
of an individual organism, and which is also like it in being composed
of local aggregations of highly-vitalized units, imbedded in a vast
aggregation of units of various lower degrees of vitality, which are
in a sense produced by, modified by, and arranged by, the higher
units.

But without accepting this view, and admitting that the discrete
ness of the social organism stands in marked contrast with the con-
creteness of the individual organism, the objection may still be ade
quately met.

Though coherence among its parts is a prerequisite to that co
operation by which the life of an individual organism is carried on,
and though the members of a social organism, not forming a con
crete whole, cannot maintain cooperation by means of physical in
fluences directly propagated from part to part, yet they can and do
maintain cooperation by another agency. Not in contact, they never
theless affect one another through intervening spaces, both by emo
tional language, and by the language, oral and written, of the intel
lect. For carrying on mutually dependent actions it is requisite that
impulses, adjusted in their kinds, amounts, and times, shall be con
veyed from part to part. This requisite is fulfilled in living bodies
by molecular waves, that are indefinitely diffused in low types, and
in high types are carried along definite channels (the function of which
has been significantly called internuncial}. It is fulfilled in societies
by the signs of feelings and thoughts, conveyed from person to person;
at first in vague ways and only at short distances, but afterward more
definitely and at greater distances. That is to say, the internuncial
function, not achievable by stimuli physically transferred, is neverthe
less achieved by language.

The mutual dependence of parts which constitutes organization is
thus effectually established. Though discrete instead of concrete, the
social aggregate is rendered a living whole.

But now, on pursuing the course of thought opened by this objec
tion and the answer to it, we arrive at an implied contrast of great

10 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

significance a contrast fundamentally affecting our idea of the ends
to be achieved by social life.

Though the discreteness of a social organism does not prevent sub
division of functions and mutual dependence of parts, yet it does
prevent that differentiation by which one part becomes an organ of
feeling and thought, while other parts become insensitive. High ani
mals, of whatever class, are distinguished from low ones by complex
and well-integrated nervous systems. While in inferior types the
minute scattered ganglia may be said to exist for the benefit of other
structures, the concentrated ganglia in superior types are the struct
ures for the benefit of which the rest may be said to exist. Though
a developed nervous system so directs the actions of the whole body
as to preserve its integrity, yet the welfare of the nervous system is the
ultimate object of all these actions, damage to any other organ being
serious only because it immediately or remotely entails that pain or
loss of pleasure which the nervous system suffers. But the discrete
ness of a society negatives differentiations carried to this extreme.
In an individual organism the minute living units, most of them per
manently localized, growing up, working, reproducing, and dying away
in their respective places, are in successive generations moulded to
their respective functions, so that some become specially sentient and
others entirely insentient. But it is otherwise in a social organism.
The units of this, out of contact and much less rigidly held in their
relative positions, cannot be so much differentiated as to become feel-
ingless units and units which monopolize feeling. There are, indeed,
slight traces of such a differentiation. Human beings are unlike in
the amounts of sensation and emotion producible in them by like
causes : here great callousness, here great susceptibility, is characteris
tic. In the same society, even where its members are of the same race,
and still more where its members are of dominant and subject races,
there exists a contrast of this kind. The mechanically-working and
hard-living units are less sensitive than the mentally-working and
more protected units. But while the regulative structures of the
social organism tend, like those of the individual organism, to become
seats of feeling, the tendency is checked by this want of physical co
hesion which brings fixity of function ; and it is also checked by the
continued need for feeling in the mechanically-working units for the
due discharge of their functions.

Hence, then, a cardinal difference in the two kinds of organisms.
In the one, consciousness is concentrated in a small part of the aggre
gate. In the other, it is diffused throughout the aggregate : all the
units possess the capacities for happiness and misery, if not in equal
degrees, still in degrees that approximate. As, then, there is no social
sensorium, it results that the welfare of the aggregate, considered
apart from that of the units, is not an end to be sought. The society
exists for the benefit of its members ; not its members for the benefit

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. n

of the society. It has ever to be remembered that great as may be
the efforts made for the prosperity of the body politic, yet the claims
of the body politic are nothing in themselves, and become something
only in so far as they embody the claims of its component individuals.

From this last consideration, which is a digression rather than a
part of the argument, let us now return and sum up the various reasons
for regarding a society as an organism.

It undergoes continuous growth ; as it grows, its parts, becoming
unlike, exhibit increase of structure ; the unlike parts simultaneously
assume activities of unlike kinds ; these activities are not simply dif
ferent, but their differences are so related as to make one another pos
sible ; the reciprocal aid thus given causes mutual dependence of the
parts ; and the mutually-dependent parts, living by and for one an
other, form an aggregate constituted on the same general principle as
an individual organism. The analogy of a .society to an organism
becomes still clearer on learning that every organism of appreciable
size is a society, and on further learning that, in both, the lives of the
units continue for some time if the life of the aggregate is suddenly
arrested, while if the aggregate is not destroyed by violence its life
greatly exceeds in duration the lives of its units. Though the two are
contrasted as respectively discrete and concrete, and though there
results a difference in the ends subserved by the organization, there
does not result a difference in the laws of the organization : the re
quired mutual influences of the parts, not transmissible in a direct way,
being transmitted in an indirect way.

Having thus considered in their most general forms the reasons for
regarding a society as an organism, we are prepared for following out
the comparison in detail. We shall find that the further we pursue it
the closer does the analogy appear.

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION.

BY THE REV. AKTHUK EIGG, M. A.

THE only mechanical tools for external use with which man is pro.
vided by Nature are : the hammer, a compound vise, and a
scratching or scraping tool ; these are all in the hand. As a vise, the
hand is worthy of a very lengthened notice ; as a hammer alone it is
now our concern. While upon a substance softer than itself the fist
can deal an appreciable blow, with one harder than itself the reaction
of the substance transfers the blow to the flesh and bone of Nature s
hammer. Hence early arose the necessity of an artificial hammer of
stone or other hard substance.

1 Abstract of three lectures before the London Society of Arts.

12 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Among the contrivances which have come down to us from the
ages before history was written, or the use of metals known, are found
stones shaped, as we may suppose, by the action of water, and so
rounded as to n t the hand. These stones are called by antiquarians
" mauls," and they were probably held in the hand and struck against
objects which otherwise could not have been broken. The maul is the
original form of the hammer. This maul might occasionally have
proved too heavy, but more frequently too light. For that tapping
action which in our minor wants is often more requisite than blows,
our prehistoric ancestors seem to have devised an ingenious appliance
consisting of a stone specially prepared for this somewhat delicate
operation. (Fig. 1.)

FIG. 1. TAPPING-HAMMER or STONE.

This is supposed to be one of these tapping-hammers, held between
a finger and the thumb ; the original bears traces of wear, as if it had
been employed in striking against a cylindrical or sharp surface.

When, now, we pass from this light to very heavy work, it will be
obvious that to hold a stone in the hollow of the hand, and to strike an
object with it so that the reaction of the blow shall be mainly met by the
muscular action of the back of the hand, and the thinnest section of the
wrist, would be not only fatiguing, but might be injurious to the deli
cate network of muscles there found, and so damage this part of the
hand. It may have been from such effects that even in the Stone age
there are traces of mauls which have double ends and are held by the
middle. A blow given by such is counteracted not only by the in
creased mass of material, but also by the changed position of the hand
and wrist in relation to the direction of the blow. When held in the
hollow of the hand, the reaction was met by (say) a depth of tissue of
about three-quarters of an inch, but, when held as the maul now alluded
to must have been held, this reaction is met by a depth of tissue of
about three inches. Hence, while mechanically (owing to the mass of
stone) and muscularly (owing to the position of the hand in reference
to the direction of the blow) the maul in this second stage is a decided
improvement upon its primitive form, we cannot but admit that ex
perience would soon suggest that even thus there was wanting suffi
cient energy to overcome reactions, and that the double-headed maul
might be improved.

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 13

The men of the Stone age early perceived the advantage of having
a handle of some kind for their mauls, and doubtless their first expe
dient consisted in lashing withes around such mauls as were found
suitable, as the blacksmith at the present day lashes withes round the
heads of his cutting and punching tools and swages. Evidences of a
further advance toward a perfect hammer are to be seen in stone
mauls with holes through them suitable for handles ; and these holes
are in some instances coned, and as well adapted for hammer-handles
as the best-made metal tools of our day.

FIG. 2. PERFORATED HAMMEB-HEAD OF STONE.

Before inquiring into the reasons which may have led to the adop
tion of the various materials and forms of hammers now in use, it will
be well to consider the hammer in, and of, and by itself. We are so
apt to look upon it as a rude implement, necessarily associated with a
superior class of finishing-tools, that the materials, forms, and scientific
principles involved in its construction and use, not only as an adjunct
to other tools, but as a sole independent and final tool, are much over
looked.

In some handicrafts, and those too involving a high class of finished
work, the hammer is the only tool employed. That great artistic

i 4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

skill in the use of the hammer as a finishing-tool can be acquired, is
manifest from the many beautiful specimens of r epouss e work to be
seen in silversmiths shops. The details of the ornamentation are not
only minute, but they so harmonize as to give elegance and expres
sion to the whole, exclusive of the form of the articles themselves.
The variety of shape is mainly produced by changes in the form of
the " pane " of the hammer and in the weight of it. These changes
of " pane " are sometimes effected by separating the pane from the
hammer, and then the separated piece is called a " punch."

The famous shield of Achilles, in the " Iliad " of Homer, is described
as the result of hammer-work ; and, though this shield may not have
been actually fashioned, nevertheless the description gives an idea of
what a hammer was in early times poetically supposed to be capable
of accomplishing. The scenes wrought upon the shield of Achilles
are 1. The earth, sea, and heavenly bodies. 2. In a city at peace
there are (a.) Marriage festivities ; (6.) Judicial suit or trial. 3. In a
city at war there are (a.) A scene before the ramparts ; (b.) An ambush
and surprise ; (c.) A bloody fight. 4. The ploughing of a field. 5.
The harvest and the meal in preparation. 6. The vintage, with music
and a march. 7. A herd of cattle attacked by lions. 8. Sheep at
pasture, and their folds. 9. A dance. 10. The great ocean-river encom
passing the whole, as, in the mind of Homer, it encompassed the earth.
For examples of the use of hammers in the production of works of
great variety and extent on a large scale, see the ancient hammered
wrought-iron gates, hinges, and panels, in the architectural room in
the South Kensington Museum ; also the suits of mail and chain-armor
in the Tower of London ; also the formation of gold-leaf, the springs
of carriages, and the stiffening of saw-plates.

FIG. 3.

FIG. 4. FIG. 5.

ENGINEER S HAMMERS.

FIG

The nature of the work to be done by hammers calls for very great
differences, not only in the form, material, and weight of the hammer-
head, but also in the appendages to these. There are the material

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 15

and form of the handles, the angle at which these handles should in
tersect the axial line of the hammer-head, the position of the centre
of gravity with respect to the intersection of this axial line, the length
and elasticity of the handle. If the centre of gravity is not in the
central line or longitudinal axis of the hammer-head, then there is a
tendency to bring the hammer down on the edge of the face and not
on the face. If this defective construction were great, the muscles of
the wrist might not be strong enough to counteract the tendency.
If the defective construction is slight, then the work is often marked
with angular indents. Arrangements, too, may be required for modi
fying the intensity of the blow, while retaining the effects resulting
from a heavy hammer where a light one would be inefficient.

It is curious to see how in the same trade the hammers are for dif
ferent purposes made of different materials. The engineer, for exam
ple, uses hammers faced with steel hardened, the stone-breaker (or
mineralogist) hammers faced with steel softened (or rather not hard
ened). Again, in another part of his progressive work, the steel ham
mer with which the engineer commenced his operations gives place to
a bronze or copper one, and this is sometimes displaced by one of lead
alloyed with tin, and the handle entirely discarded.

FIG. 7.

FIG. a

FIG. 9.

FIG. 10.

PLUMBER S HAMMERS.

The plumber dismisses all these, and for direct action upon the
material employed in his trade he uses a hammer of wood, discarding
not only the material but also the form of hammers used in allied
crafts. Indeed, one of his hammers (Fig. 7) serves a double purpose,
for, if at one moment it is a hammer, at the next it is used as a swage.
Fig. 9 is his ordinary hammer, but when carrying on his allied trade
of a glazier, not content with this, even the handle (Fig. 10) is finished

16 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in an unusual manner, probably for convenience in holding putty,
which he often carries " dabbed " on the handle. In some cases, as in
the working of copper vessels which have been silver-plated or gilt,
the coats of the precious metals are so thin that, although the weight
of a hammer-head is required, yet even the wooden hammer of the
plumber, or the still softer leaden hammer of the engineer, is equally
unsuitable, and therefore the workers in these metals cover the face
of their hammers at times with one or more layers of cloth.

The veneering hammer is compound, one end being formed of
metal and the other of wood. The metal end is used as a squeezing-
hammer (if such a term may be employed), and the wooden end as a
tapping-hammer, to ascertain by the sound produced where the veneer
ing is adhering and where it is not.

FIG. 11. MASON S HAMMER-HEAD.

The stone-mason seems to claim a universal choice. As to mate
rial, he has and frequently uses hammers made of wood, of iron (steel-
faced), and of an alloy of lead.

In some cases the hammer and the anvil mutually change places,
the hammer of wood, the anvil of metal, or the converse. Nor is the

FIG. 12.- CARPENTER S WOODEN MALLET.

wood always of the same character. As varied as are the characters
of the woods themselves, so varied are those chosen by different crafts
for the employment of each craft.

Hammers with and without handles are in use hammers of various
weights, from half an ounce to ten pounds, and from fifteen to fifty-six
pounds are now employed as hand-hammers. The angles of attach

ment of handles to heads are various : the position of the centre of
gravity of the head in reference to the line of penetration of the handle

J various; the faces have various convexities; the panes have all

ranges and forms, from the hemispherical end of the engineer s ham-

er, and the sharpened end of the pick and tomahawk, to the curved

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 17

sharpened edge of the adze, or the straight convex edge of the hatchet
and axe ; the panes make all angles with the plane in which the ham
mer mov 7 es.

FIG. 15. COOPER S CLAW-HAMMER.

FIGS. 13, 14. BOILER-MAKER S HAMMERS-

FIG. 16, SHIP-CARPENTER S CLAW-HAMMER

Fig. 16 is a ship-carpenter s hammer-head with claw. It differs
from ordinary claw-hammers in that the handle is not strapped. In
some American claw-hammers the strapping is carried up the back and

FIG. 17. COACH-TRIMMER S HAMMER-HEAD.

front of the hammer. Why this change has been made is not very
apparent, for by it one strap that nearest the claw is in tension,
while the other is in compression. With the straps on the sides, as in
Figs.18, 19, the tension is equal on both. Fig. 15 is a cooper s claw-

FIG. 18. SLATER S HAMMER.

hammer, not strapped. In these cases, if much power is required
when the claw is used, it should be applied by pressure on the fae-
end of the hammer as well as upon the handle.

VOL. IX. 2

i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Before considering the elements upon a combination of which the
powers of hand-hammers depend, it will be well to remark upon the
circumstances under which this power is actually developed. The
development takes place at the instant of contact of the moving
hammer with the struck body. Such contacts as those of hammers

FIG. 19. TOMAHAWK -HAMMEK.

belong to that department of mechanical philosophy called "impact."
Impact is pressure of short duration so short that, compared with the
time in which the velocity of the impinging body is being acquired,
it is inappreciable ; or, if the comparison be between spaces passed
through by the hammer-head before impact and during impact, then,
generally speaking, the disproportion is the same, and the space passed
through after impact is almost inappreciable when compared with the
space passed through before impact.

It may assist in realizing the source as well as the magnitude of
the power of a hammer, if the dynamical effect of impact be compared
with what may be called the statical effect of pressure. Let any one
attempt to drive a nail vertically into an horizontal piece of timber by
the statical effect of the simple pressure of a load placed gently on the
head, as weights are laid in scale-pans. Let the depth to which the nail
is thus moved be measured. Again, let the same nail, under the same
circumstances, be driven to the same depth by the impact of a ham
mer-head, then it may for our present purpose be said that the load
placed on the nail is a representative statical measure of the impact
of the hammer.

Now, although in any given case the work in a hammer consequent
on its mass and velocity may be very great, yet utilizing the whole
of the work produced in the expenditure of the accumulated power
in the hammer depends upon the resistance met with at the instant
of impact. The more perfect this resistance is, the greater will be
the value of the work done; hence the practice of using massive
anvils, firmly fixed, and the necessity for staying all vibrations in the
body struck. Let any one attempt to drive a nail in a board not
firmly supported, and then by the use of the same means drive a simi
lar nail into the same board supported, and he will appreciate the im
portance of resistance to the progress of a hammer s motion if the full
effect of a blow be desired.

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 19

The only exception to this is to be found in the blows given to
minerals which are to be cleft, and not crushed. In their case it is
desired to give only such a blow as shall accomplish the cleaving ; any
surplusage of energy, if expended on the material, would, of course,
produce fractures over and above the required cleavage. Provision
must be made for the dissipation of this superfluous energy, and it is
done by placing the mineral in an elastic holding, the nature of the
required elasticity being determined by experience, as different sub
stances require different elasticities in the supports by which they are
held for cleavage. Illustrations of the principle here enunciated are
seen in the breaking of stones on the highway, where the elasticity is
transferred from the mineral support to the handle of the hammer;
also in the flaking of flints, where the elasticity is obtained by holding
the mineral in the hand and supporting it on the knees. The splitting
of the diamond is a case where these principles and considerations
claim the greatest care.

The anvil used by the diamond-splitter is of wood, in shape not
unlike a ninepin, but tapered at the lower end so as to be placed up
right in a coned hole in a small block of lead. On the head of the
ninepin is a flat, on which, by means of cement, the diamond to be
split can be firmly fixed. Placed here so that the plane of intended
cleavage shall be vertical when the wooden anvil is in the lead block,
a deep scratch is made by a second diamond, in which scratch the
edge of the splitter s chisel is to be planted. The diamond-splitter s
chisel is very like an old razor. This chisel the workman holds in his
left hand, in his right he holds that which is his hammer. The hammer
is a plain steel rod, about eight inches in length, and tapering from
about half an inch diameter in the middle to three-quarters of an inch
at the end. The very construction of this peculiar hammer gives the
operator a large range for precise and graduated blows ; within certain
limits he can most carefully arrange that the path of the centre of
percussion, the place of impact, the line bisecting the angle of his
razor-like chisel, and the expected plane of cleavage of the diamond,
shall coincide ; hence, with great coolness and the absence of all hesi
tation, he gives a blow, upon the effect of which many hundreds of
pounds may depend.

In dealing with hammers including under that term for the pres
ent purpose axes, hatchets, adzes, and picks the following question
claims consideration : What power or energy is in a hammer of known
weight, moving at a -known velocity, if brought to a state of rest by
impact on a block ? Another question also suggests itself: Can this
impact effect of a hammer be converted into simple pressure, and be
stated as a load or weight placed, where the impact was requisite, to
produce the same effect as the impact did? If the mode of solving
the first question can be made clear, then the answer to the second
can be easilv obtained. The measurable elements which affect the

20

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

result are a variation in the mass of the hammer-head, and a variation
in the length of the handle. By a varied mass there is a varied weight
in the hammer; by a varied length of handle there will, with the same
muscular effort, be a varied velocity in this mass, and upon a combina
tion of mass and velocity depends the produced energy. Now, if a
mass of metal, moving at a known velocity, strike an object, the ener
gy of that blow results entirely from the conditions at the moment
of impact. For example, the work in the hammer, jET, as it strikes the
nail, N (Fig. 20), does not depend upon its velocity through the arc,

FIG. 20.

Q JV", but only upon the velocity when commencing contact with the
nail. Hence, so long as the material which gives the blow and the
mass of it are the same, it is not of any consequence how the velocity
was accumulated. It may result from centrifugal or rectilinear action
it may result from muscular effort, or from steam-pressure, or from
gravity.

It may now be obvious that, other elements remaining unchanged,
whatever accelerates the velocity of a hammer increases, according to
very clear rules, the energy or power of the same hammer. Hence
the tendency of contrivances, as manifested in the addition to steam
as well as handicraft hammers ; for example, in the early lift-hammers,

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER. 2 \

those which are by many still considered to produce the most per
fect of hammered work, the " wiper " was so shaped as to throw the
hammer very high. The ascent- was checked by a powerful spring,
and thus the. ascensional energy was reversed and added to the accel
erating force of gravity downward ; and so not only was the intensity
of the blows increased, but their frequency also. This spring took
the place of that muscular energy which brought the hammer down
with intensified effect.

Hence, also, in steam-hammers, all muscular effect to intensify the
blow is transferred to the steam, and all consequences of centrifugal
action, whether from hand or tilt hammers at the ends of arms, are
removed. Further, in steam-hammers nowadays, the steam operates
to check as well as to intensify the blow. This checking action is
called " cushioning," and it seems to do what an elastic handle does
in a sledge-hammer: it relieves the rigid fabric or erection from jar
or destruction. " Cushioning " is brought into play by admitting steam
for the purpose of checking the intensity of the blow due to the action
of gravity alone, or of steam combining with gravity upon the ham
mer. Hence the perfect control over large steam or air worked ham
mers, and the rapidity with which the intensity of the blow may be
changed. Such control as this over a sledge-hammer is beyond our
bodily powers. We may intensify the blow, but we cannot, except
just experimentally, and for the purpose of display, bring the restrain
ing power of the muscles to diminish the energy of the descending
hammer. Journal of the Society of Arts.

PREPOSSESSIONS FOE AND AGAINST THE SUPER
NATURAL.

A CRITICISM OF DR. CARPENTER.
BY JAMES McCOSH, LL. D.,

PRESIDE XT OF PRINCETON COLLEGE.

DR. CARPENTER is master of the domain which he has appropri
ated for the last age, that of physiology. He has done more than
any living man, not exactly to advance, but to combine and expound,
the discovered truths of his science. But he is ever impelled by his in
tellectual sharpness and his cultivated tastes to take excursions into
other regions, and I am not sure whether he has there been so success
ful. In particular, as dwelling so near the territory of mind, he has ever
been crossing into it. He has made a very careful survey of the bor
der-country, and given us the result in his valuable work "Mental
Physiology." Ever since the paimy days of mesmerism and table-

22 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

turning, he has been enlarging on that "expectancy " and " preposses
sion " which have been so perverting the vision of many in their ob
servation of facts. He will not be offended with me if I hint that it is
just possible that he himself may unconsciously be under the influence
of these, when, on finding how much can be explained by physiologi
cal processes, he imagines he can account in the same way for purely
mental operations.

On some points Dr. Carpenter has been vigorously opposing the
materialism of the day : " In reducing the thinking man to the level of
a puppet, that moves according as its strings are pulled, the material
istic philosopher places himself in complete antagonism to the positive
conviction, which, like that of the existence of an external world, is felt
by every right-minded man, who does not trouble himself by speculat
ing upon the matter, that he realty does possess a self-determining
power, which can rise above all the promptings of suggestion, and can,
within certain limits, mould external circumstances to its own re
quirements instead of being completely subjugated by them." ("Men
tal Physiology," 5.) By such utterances, worthy of the son of Lant
Carpenter, of Bristol, he has gained the confidence of a number of
anti-materialistic and religious men, who may find, however, that he
is conducting them into a place between two armies where they are
exposed to the fire of both. At this point he has been abandoned by
the disciples of Bain, Huxley, and Tyndall, by M. Ribot, and the
writers in the Revue /Scientifique, the organ of the school in France
who wonder that he should stop where he has. For, if material agency
can generate so much, can account for imagination and genius gener
ally, can explain our higher intellectual efforts of judgment and rea
soning, can fashion conscience and gender the obligation of duty and
the sense of guilt, and our reverence for the unseen and the sublime,
why may it not also produce will, an operation evidently so swayed by
causes ? They who follow Dr. Carpenter will soon find that they have
very insecure footing, and must either go forward and identify will,
as they do intelligence, with material agency, or retreat so far back
as to hold that there are many other operations, such as the discern
ment of higher truth and higher goodness, which cannot be derived
from atoms. If there be such an agent as will and I agree with Dr.
Carpenter in thinking that consciousness testifies in its behalf then
we must provide a compartment for it, and we may place there reason
and our ideas of the good, the infinite, and the perfect.

Dr. Carpenter s views of the attributes of the mind seem to me to
be very inadequate. They were formed about the time when Hart
ley s " Observations on Man " and James Mill s " Analysis of the Hu
man Mind" were reckoned the highest authorities among the Unita
rians who felt Priestley s influence. Dr. Carpenter evidently looks
upon the operations of the mind as composed of sensations and ide
ations. His view of both these is very insufficient. In all sense-per-

MoCOSH IN- REPLY TO CARPENTER. 23

ception, there is more than mere sensation considered as a feeling ;
there is knowledge of something extended. Then along with every
perception there is consciousness of self as perceiving. According to
the school of James Mill, sensation is a mere feeling, and ideation is
a reproduced sensation. Memories, imaginations, conceptions, are all
ideations ; nay, judgments and reasonings are only combined ideations.
The sense of duty is the product of association of ideations founded
on sensations of pleasure and pain. Dr. Carpenter proceeds, in fact, on
this psychology. But, to his credit, he draws back at a certain point.
He stands up resolutely for a self-determining will which he places
above both sensation and ideation. When asked for his proof, he ap
peals very legitimately to a " conviction " felt by every mind. But a
like conviction certifies that there is vastly more than he sees in oper
ations which he has passed over so lightly ; that in memory the idea
of time is involved, as every thing is remembered as happening in
time past ; that in imagination there is a wonderful arranging power ;
in conception, a grouping power ; and in judgment, the discovery of
relations such as those of identity, of quantity, and cause and effect,
all diving deep into the depth of things, while the conscience gives us
an entirely new idea, that of good and evil, and makes us feel that we
owe duties to God and our fellow-men. He who overlooks these at
tributes may imagine that he can identify mental operations with
physiological; but it is simply because he has not noticed the char
acteristic attributes of the human mind.

Dr. Carpenter did essential service to science, to religion, and I
may add to common-sense, by exposing the alleged evidence in behalf
of mesmerism an-d table-turning. He showed that, in regard to these
phenomena, there were a " prepossession " and an " expectancy " which
led persons to believe and affirm, without any valid proof, that they
witnessed certain actions. I cannot see, however, that Dr. Carpenter
has here unfolded any new truth, or that he has explained the nature
of this "expectancy" certainly no light can be thrown upon it by
physiology. It is to be accounted for by purely mental causes, by a
hasty judgment into which people are led by the association of ideas,
guided by the wishes or feelings of the heart. If we have been accus
tomed to see two tilings together, on one of them presenting itself we
are apt to look for the other, and believe that this other is present
when we have no valid proof. It is thus that, associating the standing
on a steep precipice with a fall, many tremble when placed there, even
though there be no real danger. It is thus we account for the appar
ent deception of the senses. We rapidly infer that an object seen
across an arm of the sea or a level plain is near, following the rule,
usually correct, that an object is near when there are few visible
objects between us and it. It is thus that a countryman, seated,
and, as he feels, at rest, on a vessel leaving the quay, momentarily rea
sons that the quay is moving, as he has found that when he is at rest

24 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the object whose image passes over his eye is in motion. It is thus
that when a person has come to us habitually at a certain hour, say
the postman to deliver our letters, we may readily take some other
person who appears at the time for him, and be ready to affirm or to
swear that we saw him. It is thus that " the wish is father to the
thought;" that is, we are inclined to believe what we wish and ex
pect. It is thus, too, that in times of excitement, personal, political,
and religious, we readily fall in with the fancies created by our fears
and our hopes. Not only so, but a vivid idea reaching down from the
brain may produce the same effect on the sensorium as the external
object does through the sense of sight or hearing. Dr. Carpenter
has seized an important truth in explaining in this w T ay the erroneous
declarations given by honest enough persons believing in mesmerism
and spirit-rapping, and ever seeking for signs and wonders. He is
right, too, in explaining how strong religious feelings may raise illu
sory expectations and beliefs, and that the testimony given by per
sons under their influence may be partial or valueless.

I think I discover proof that even scientific men may fall under
the influence of this " prepossession " and " expectancy." I see an
example of it in the way in which many of them account for our
thoughts and resolutions : they call them reflex action. The discovery
of the nature of automatic motion was one of the most important dis
coveries of the last age. An action goes along a nerve to the centre
of a ganglion, and comes out in motion by another nerve : thus, if a
frog s foot is pricked, it is immediately drawn in. Of much the same
kind is the reflex action of the sensori-motor system. My nostrils are
affected by a pungent substance, the action goes on to the sensorium,
and a sneeze is the reult. So far we have a well-understood process.
But can we go on to explain in this way our special mental acts ? The
language used by some physiologists is fitted to leave the impression
that all mental action is the reflex of some action from without, proba
bly a sensation. Let us look at a case. I receive a letter informing
me that a friend at a distance is in deep distress, needs me to defend
him by my presence, my purse, and my counsel, against a. false accu
sation, and I hasten to his assistance. Is all this merely a reflex ac
tion called forth by the appeal in the letter ? Let us carefully inquire
how much and how little physiology can explain. It can show how
the writing in the letter, after passing through the eye, is reflected on
the retina, thence carried through the optic nerve to the sensorium,
thence it may be transmitted to the gray matter at the periphery of
the brain, and produce there, it may be, some motion or new ar
rangement of the cells. But it can go no farther. When I under
stand the letter, when I comprehend the position of my friend, when .
I conclude that the accusation against him is false, when I feel that I
ought to assist him, and for this purpose travel a long way and make
many sacrifices, we have come to processes that cannot be explained

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER. 25

by any external impulse ; which can as little be accounted for by reflex
action as they could by gravity or by chemical affinity. Then there
are cases in which the action originates within, with no prompting
from without. I awake in the morning and I think and conclude that
some good cause, the cause of liberty, or of my country, or of religion,
requires me to take a bold, decisive action, and I hasten to put my
purpose in execution. How absurd to call this, with some physiolo
gists, a reflex action ! That able men should have fallen into this error
can only be accounted for by a law of " expectancy ; " they have ex
plained so much by their law, and they think that they can explain
everything.

Dr. Carpenter has unfolded, as Hume had done a century ago, the
tendencies which predispose man to believe in preternatural occur
rences. But are there no " prepossessions " and " expectations " which
incline some scientific men in the present day to account for all things
by natural agency, and prejudice them against calling in any thing
preternatural ? The business of science is to look into the causes of
obvious or recondite phenomena, and, proceeding in the right method,
they have discovered the natural causes of events which many re
garded as supernatural. The men who have explained lightning
and mysterious diseases, and resolved light into vibrations, and
detected the composition of the sun s atmosphere, and of the distant
stars, are led to spurn at the very idea of there being any thing which
cannot be accounted for by mundane agency. Then they have seen,
or heard, or read, of so many cases of religious pretension and impost
ure that they at once set down every reported case of divine inter
position to illusion or delusion. Some have gone the length of main
taining that a miracle is not only an improbability, but an impossi
bility. A " prepossession " is produced, an " expectancy " is created,
that the miracles of Scripture may be solved by some natural means.
In the last age Paulus labored to prove that Jesus accomplished his
cures by taking advantage of the secret agencies of Nature. But this
theory has long ago been set aside by every one as inconsistent with
the training, the position, and known character of Jesus. Then the
mythic theory was started and stretched to its utmost capacity by
Strauss ; but it has been shown that no myths ever had the con
sistency, the purity, the spirituality of the gospel narratives, parables,
and doctrines. Now it is averred that historical proof is wanting of
the early date of the books of the New Testament. This objection
has been met already by the great scholars of Germany, and is being
met by Dr. Lightfoot and others among English-speaking divines.
It is shown and is admitted that some of the epistles of Paul must
have been written by their reputed author, and that they presuppose
a belief throughout the Church of the leading events in Christ s life,
and of a perfected system of evangelical belief. If. the epistles are
genuine, so must be the correlated Book of Acts, with its wonderful

26 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

story of the spread of the gospel, the only "working hypothesis " to
explain the facts. The synoptics bear internal marks of being genu
ine ; give a consistent tale to account for the state of things as detailed
by Paul and the Book of Acts; and have external testimony accumu
lating in their favor, derived especially from the controversies with
the early heretics. Even John s gospel is brought within a hundred
years of our Lord s death, almost certainly in the first century, is
shown to be as little inconsistent with the synoptics as Plato s Socra
tes is with Xenophon s Socrates, and breathes an air so superior to
that of the Apostolic Fathers, that we see the one to be heaven-de
scended, the other to be the product of imperfect human nature at a
time when the minds of Christians were saturated with divine truth.
It is clear that the "expectancy" of accounting for the life of Christ
by human causes has not yet been realized. " The Bible," as Beza
said, "is an anvil which has worn out many hammers."

Every one knows that all men, scientific and unscientific, are lia
ble to be swayed by prejudice, and Dr. Carpenter has not been able
to throw much light on this subject by physiology. Even mathema
ticians may have their " personal equation." Philosophers, so called,
and scientists have fallen under the influence of the idols of Bacon,
and not a few other idols which have been set up since his time. His
torical investigators, judges, and juries, are all aware of its existence,
and should guard against it. We meet with it in our daily inter
course with our fellow-men, and make allowance for it. We see it in the
village parties, in political contests, and in the rivalries of rank and
trade. To every reality there is a counterfeit ; corresponding to ev
ery truth there is a false appearance ; if there be one Jehovah, there
are many idols. Many, when they look to the dust of the conflict,
are tempted to conclude that Truth cannot be found. But, notwith
standing all this, Truth can be found and won by those who court her
in the right manner and the right spirit. It is to be remembered,
however, that while we are required to demand evidence before yield
ing our conviction, all evidence is not of the same kind. " I receive
mathematics," said Goethe, " as the most sublime and useful science
as long as they are applied in their proper place ; but I cannot com
mend the misuse of them in matters which do not belong to their
sphere, and in which, noble science as they are, they seem to be mere
nonsense, as if, forsooth, things only exist when they can be mathe
matically demonstrated ! It would be foolish for a man not to believe
in his mistress s love because she could not prove it to him mathemati
cally. She can mathematically prove her dowry, but not her love."
Some scientists in our day are insisting that every thing, even in his
tory, morals, and religion, is to be settled by experiment and calcu
lation, and would place all truth under the microscope subject it to
the blowpipe, and express it in statistics and they do not see that
the highest truth escapes in the process. The defenders of religion

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER. ^ 1

maintain that in religion a sincere mind will discover the truth with
or without scientific knowledge. Many believe that John Bunyan saw
as far into spiritual matters as even Newton or Locke, and much far
ther than Laplace ever did. Some of the highest statesmen and law
yers in Great Britain imagined that they could get more good from
the direct and homely appeals of Moody than from those select dilet-
tant meetings in London of savants and litterateurs who have aban
doned Christianity, and are seeking to catch some higher religion
which evanishes as they would lay hold of it.

Everybody acknowledges that all witnesses are not to be trusted ;
yet in the common affairs of life, in trials, in history, we do find tes
timony which we implicitly believe. To the great body even of edu
cated men, scientific knowledge depends on the trustworthiness of
those who have made the observations and experiments. Notwith
standing all their preconceptions, there are declarations of men of
science as to matters of fact which we can trust ; and it would be a
violation of their whole nature, in fact it would be a miracle, were they
to deceive us. Dr. Carpenter is entitled to credit for having helped
to expose the fooleries and the rogueries of spirit-rapping, rope-tying,
and of levitation. But he seems to think that it is possible by the
same method to undermine the miracles of the Old and New Testa
ments. All who have inquired carefully into the subject see that the
testimony in favor of spiritualistic manifestations cannot stand the
common tests of evidence. But it has been maintained by many of
the greatest and most sagacious minds, and by the highest moral
minds which our world has produced, that the testimony in behalf of
the essential events of the New Testament cannot be set aside with
out undermining the whole of ancient history. Even at first sight the
spiritual seances and performers have no moral prestige in their favor.
The products are unworthy of God, and inconsistent with his mode c
operation in Nature. We can discover motives enough to iiulu
them to act as they do such as the desire to create wonder with
some the hope of getting money. How different with our Lord, who,
so far from taking advantage of the wonder-loving spirit of the Je
actually restrained it ! The wonders of the spiritualists are perfo
in rooms prepared for the purpose or in darkness, whereas
acles of our Lord were performed in open day, in unexpect
stances, and before all men. Then the whole teaching of Jesi
totally above and altogether opposed to the spirit of his age anc
tion, and only exposed him and his followers to opprobrium, po^

and suffering.

But Dr. Carpenter has discovered that there is no stronger evi
dence in behalf of the events of our Lord s life than we have in ft
the miracles attributed to St. Columba. This is a proof that, ai
multifarious employments, Dr. Carpenter has not carefully s -veyed
or minutely examined the whole body of Christian evidences.

28 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

only original life of Columba is the " Yita " of Abbot Adamnan, written
about one hundred years after the saint s death. All that it proves is,
that at the time the life was written Columba was believed to have
wrought miracles. But there is satisfactory proof that the first gos
pels were written while many who had seen the events were still
alive. The account given by the abbot was all in accordance with
the popular belief, and had not, like the earlier Christian records, to
encounter the hostile criticism of keen and able opponents. The
voice of the Irish dove was a very, pleasant one, but all the good
words uttered were got from him on whom the spirit alighted as a
dove. We have no utterances of his to be compared with the teach
ings of our Lord and his disciples. Then we have no record of such
lives and sacrifices as are described in the letter of Pliny the Younger
in A. D. 112. Nor have we such corroborations as the Book of Acts,
such original productions as the Epistles of Paul, such a mighty re
sult as Christianity with its influence over the world, over its educa
tion and its civilization, for the last eighteen hundred years.

Dr. Carpenter quotes Locke as saying that we are to regard the
doctrine as proving the miracle rather than the miracle proving the
doctrine. Locke believed both the doctrine and the miracle. Dr.
Carpenter does not tell us whether he believes either. He does not
say whether he looks on the doctrine as proving the miracle. The
wisest defenders of Christianity have always combined the two, the
lofty teaching and the high morality, with the attested supernatural
action. In estimating the validity of even common testimony we
combine the character of the witness with the facts to which he de
pones. We look to his manner of testifying, to the consistency and
transparency of his statements, even to the name he has borne among
his associates and the motives by which he may have been swayed.
So in weighing the evidence we have for Christianity we are entitled
to combine the truth testified to with the testimony. We do not
choose to separate the record of miracles in Matthew from the Sermon
on the Mount. We are prepared to believe that he who uttered those
bold and transparently sincere and pure precepts could not have been
guilty of deceit. It is clear that Jesus claimed supernatural power. If
there be any truth at all in the accounts of him, in fact, if there ever
was such a person as Jesus, it is clear that he claimed to work miracles.
His claims are found imbedded in the heart of discourses which con
tain his loftiest ideas, moral and spiritual, far beyond the concep
tion of the evangelists or the early Christian writers. His discourses
are, in fact, his greatest miracle. His acts and words are like the
warp and woof of his garment, which is woven throughout and can
not be divided.

The doctrines, the precepts, the providential occurrences, the mir
acles, constitute a system quite as much as the Cosmos does. In this
system one part supports another, each helps to bear up the whole, and

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER, ^

the whole makes every part cohere. He who assails Christianity Las
to attack a phalanx. The pure morality fits in to the character of
God, revealed as a spirit, revealed as light, revealed as love. The
miracles, being almost all of them meant to remove evil, most of them
to heal diseases, adapt themselves to the manifest disorder in the
world, to our consciousness of sin, and the doctrine which reveals an
atonement. The supernatural system is higher than the natural, but
it is in accordance with it. The higher joins on beautifully to the
lower quite as fittingly as vegetable life superinduces itself on inani
mate Nature, as animal life completes vegetable life, as the soul fits
into the body. Science and philosophy may not be able to go back
to a beginning, but they require a source. It is not more certain that
" ex nihilo nihil fit " than it is that what produces must have power to
produce. AIL these later discussions as to force and cause show that
there must be some intimate connection between the effect and its
cause. Mayer wrought out the grand doctrine of the conservation
of force by the principle that " cause equals effect." This is not,
as it appears to me, the correct expression of the law, but it points
to a deep law lying at the basis of that development which men
are studying so eagerly in the present day. All that is in the effect
has come from the causes it may be the successive causes. We
are thus carried back to an inherent power, not created by develop
ment, but the source or spring of development. This source may
surely be declared supernatural. The Bible simply speaks of the con
tinuance of that supernatural in revelation and in inspiration. This
supernatural is not inconsistent with the natural; it is the comple
ment of it. The higher world overarches the lower world as the sky
does the earth. The world to come consummates what is begun in
the present world provides a place for the immortal soul, arid for the
body raised to join it.

The conclusion of the whole matter is, that we are to weigh the
evidence in behalf of revelation in the same way as we weigh any
other evidence, laying aside all " prepossessions " and " expectancies "
for and against supernaturalism ; and that the evidence for Christian
ity, so large, so varied, so compact, is not to be summarily set aside
by any physiological doctrine sufficient to explain mesmerism and
spirit-rapping.

3 c THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 1

HOLIDAY LECTURES AT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION.

BY PBOF. TYNDALL, F. E. S.

II.

SECTION 8. Electrics and Non- Electrics. For a long period,
bodies were divided into electrics and. non-electrics, the former
deemed capable of being electrified, the latter not. Thus the amber
of the ancients, and the spars, gems, fossils, stones, glasses, and resins,
operated on by Dr. Gilbert, were electrics, while all the metals were
non-electrics. We must now determine the true meaning of this dis
tinction.

Take in succession a ball of brass, of wood coated with tin-foil, a
lead bullet, and an apple, in the hand, and strike them briskly with
silk, flannel, or the fox s brush ; none of them will attract the balanced
lath (Fig. 4), or show any other symptom of electric excitement. All
of them, therefore, would have been once called non-electrics.

But suspend them.in succession by a string of silk held in the hand,
and strike them again ; every one of them will now attract the lath.

Reflect upon the meaning of this experiment. We have introduced
an insulator the silk string between the hand and the body struck,
and we find that by its introduction the non-electric has been con
verted into an electric.

The meaning is obvious. When held in the hand, though elec
tricity was developed in each case by the friction, it passed imme
diately through the hand and body to the earth. This transfer being
prevented by the silk, the electricity, once excited, is retained, and
the attraction of the lath is the consequence.

In like manner, a brass tube, held in the hand and struck with a
fox s brush, shows no attractive power ; but when a stick of sealing-
wax, ebonite, or gutta-percha, is thrust into the tube as a handle, the
striking of the tube at once develops the power of attraction.

And now you see, more clearly than you did at first, the meaning
of the experiment with the heated foolscap and India-rubber. Paper
and wood always imbibe a certain amount of moisture from the air.
When the rubber was passed over the cold paper, electricity was
excited, but the paper, being rendered a conductor by its moisture,
allowed the electricity to pass away.

Prove all things. Lay your cold foolscap on a cold board, sup
ported by warm dry tumblers ; pass your India-rubber over the pa
per ; lift it by a loop of silk, for if you touch it it will discharge itself.

1 A course of six lectures, with simple experiments in frictional electricity, before
juvenile audiences during the Christmas holidays.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 3 ,

You will find it electric ; and with it you can charge your electro
scope, or attract from a distance your "balanced lath.

The human body was ranked among the non-electrics. Make plain
to yourself the reason. Stand upon the floor and permit a friend to
strike you briskly with the fox s brush. Present your knuckle to the
balanced lath, you will find no attraction. Here, however, you stand
upon the earth, so that even if electricity had been developed, there
is nothing to hinder it from passing away.

But, place upon the ground four warm glass tumblers, and upon
the tumblers a board. Stand upon the board, and present your
knuckle to the lath. A- single stroke of the fox s fur, if skillfully
given, will produce attraction. If you stand upon a cake of resin,
of ebonite, or upon a sheet of good India-rubber, the effect will be
the same.

Throw a mackintosh over your shoulders, and let a friend strike it
with the fox s brush, the attractive force is greatly augmented.

After brisk striking, present your knuckle to the knuckle of your
friend. A spark will pass between you.

This experiment with the mackintosh further illustrates what you
have already frequently observed, namely, that it is not friction alone,
but the friction of special substances against each other, that produces
electricity.

Thus we prove that non-electrics, like electrics, can be excited, the
condition of success being, that an insulator shall be interposed be
tween the non-electric and the earth. It is obvious that the old divis
ion into electrics and non-electrics really meant a division into insu
lators and conductors.

SEC. 9. Discovery of Two Electricities. We have hitherto dealt
almost exclusively with electric attractions, but, in an experiment al
ready referred to, Otto von Guericke observed the repulsion of a
feather by his sulphur globe. I also anticipated matters in the use of
our Dutch gold electroscope, where the repulsion of the leaves in
formed us of the arrival of the electricity.

Du Fay, who was the real discoverer here, found a gold-leaf float
ing in the air to be at first attracted and then repelled by the same
excited body. He proved that when it was repelled by rubbed glass,
it was attracted by rubbed resin and that when it was repelled by
rubbed resin, it was attracted by rubbed glass. Hence the important
announcement, by Du Fay, that there are two kinds of electricity.

The electricity excited on the glass was for a time called vitreous
electricity while that excited on the sealing-wax was called resinous
electricity. These terms are, however, improper ; because, by chang
ing the rubber, we can obtain the electricity of sealing-wax upon glass,
and the electricity of glass upon sealing-wax.

Roughen, for example, the surface of your glass tube, and rub^it
with flannel, the electricity of sealing-wax will be found upon the vit-

3 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

reous surface. Rub your sealing-wax with vulcanized India-rubber,
the electricity of glass will be found upon the resinous surface.

We now use the term positive electricity to denote that developed
on glass by the friction of silk ; and negative electricity to denote that
developed on sealing-wax by the friction of flannel. These terms are
adopted purely for the sake of convenience. There is no reason in
Nature why the resinous electricity should not be called positive, and
the vitreous electricity negative. Once agreed, however, to apply the
terms as here fixed, we must adhere to this agreement throughout.

SEC. 10. Fundamental Law of Electric Action. In all the expeii-
ments which we have hitherto made, one of- the substances has been
electrified by friction, and the other not. But, once engaged in inqui
ries of this description, questions incessantly occur to the mind, the
answering of which extends our knowledge, and suggests other ques
tions. Suppose, instead of exciting only one -of the bodies presented
to each other, we were to excite both of them, what would occur ?
This is the question which was asked and answered by Du Fay, and
which we must answer for ourselves.

Here your wire loop (Fig. 1), comes again into play. Place an
unrubbed gutta-percha tube, or a stick of sealing-wax, in the loop,
and be sure that it is unrubbed that no electricity adheres to it from
former experiments. If it fail to attract light bodies, it is unexcited ;
if it attract them, pass your hand over it several times, or, better still,
pass it over or through the flame of a spirit-lamp or candle. This
will remove every trace of electricity. Attract the unrubbed gutta-
percha tube by a rubbed one.

Remove the unrubbed tube from the loop, and excite it with its
flannel rubber. One end of the tube is held in your hand, and is there
fore unexcited. Return the tube to the loop, keeping your eye upon
the excited end. Bring a second rubbed tube near the excited end
of the suspended one : strong repulsion is the consequence. Drive the
suspended tube round and round by this force of repulsion.

Bring a rubbed glass tube near the excited end of the gutta-percha
tube : strong attraction is the result.

Repeat this experiment step by step with two glass tubes. Prove
that the rubbed glass tube attracts the unrubbed one. Remove the
unrubbed tube from the loop, excite it by its rubber, return it to the
loop, and establish the repulsion of glass by glass. Bring rubbed
gutta-percha or sealing-wax near the rubbed glass : strong attraction
is the consequence.

These experiments lead us directly to the fundamental law of elec
tric action, which is this : Bodies charged with the same electricity
repel each other, while bodies charged with opposite electricities
attract each other. Positive repels positive, and attracts negative.
Negative repels negative, and attracts positive.

Devise experiments which shall still further illustrate this funda-

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 33

mental law. Repeat, for example, Otto von Guericke s experiment.
Hang a feather by a silk thread, and bring your rubbed glass tube
near it : the feather is attracted, touches the rod, charges itself with
the electricity of the rod, and is then repelled. Cause it to retreat
from the rod in various directions.

Hang your feather by a common thread : if no insulating substance
intervenes between the feather and the earth, you can get no repul
sion. Why ? you ought to be able to answer. Obviously it is be
cause the charge of positive electricity communicated by the rod is
not retained by the feather, but passes away to the earth. Hence,
you have not positive acting against positive at all. Why you should
have the attraction of the neutral body by the electrified one will, as
already stated, appear by-and-by.

Attract your straw needle by your rubbed glass rod. Let the
straw strike the rod, so that the one shall rub against the other. The
straw accepts the electricity of the rod, and repulsion immediately
follows attraction, as shown in Fig. 7.

Mr. Cottrell has devised the simple electroscope represented in
Fig. 8 to show repulsion. A is a stem of sealing-wax, with a small
circle of tin, T, at the top. TFis a bent wire proceeding from T, with
a small disk attached to it by wax. // is a little straw index, sup
ported by the needle, N", as shown in the figure. The stem, A, is not
quite vertical, the object being to cause the bit of paper, J, to rest
close to W when the apparatus is not electrified. When electricity
is imparted to T, it flows through the wires, TFand w, over both disk
and index : immediate repulsion of the straw is the consequence.

No better experiment can be made to illustrate the self-repulsive
character of electricity than the following one : Heat your square
board again, and warm, as before, your sheet of foolscap. Spread
the paper upon the board, and excite it by the friction of India-rub
ber. Cut from the sheet two long strips with your penknife. Hold
the strips together at one end. Separate them from the board, and

VOL. IX. 3

34

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lift them into the air : they forcibly drive each other apart, producing
a wide divergence.

Cut several strips, so as to form a kind of tassel. Hold them to
gether at one end. Separate them from the board, and lift them into
the air : they are driven asunder by the self-repellent electricity, pre-

FIG. 8.

senting an appearance which may remind you of the hair of Medusa.
The effect is represented in Fig. 9.

And now you must learn to determine with certainty the quality
of the electricity with which any body presented to you may be
charged. You see immediately that attraction is no sure test, because
unelectrified bodies are attracted. Further on you will be able to
grapple with another possible source of error in the employment of
attraction.

FIG. 9.

In determining quality, you must ascertain, by trial, the kind of
electricity by which the charged body is repelled ; if, for example,
any electrified body repel, or is repelled by, sealing-wax rubbed with

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 35

flannel, the electricity of the body is negative ; if it repel, or is re
pelled by, glass, rubbed with silk, its electricity is positive. Du Fay
had the sagacity to propose this mode of testing quality.

Apply this test to the strips of foolscap paper excited by the In
dia-rubber. Bring a rubbed gutta-percha tube near the electrified
strips, you have strong attraction. Bring a rubbed glass tube be
tween the strips, you have strong repulsion and augmented diver
gence. Hence, the electricity, being repelled by the positive glass, is
itself positive.

SEC. 11. Double or " Polar" Character of the Electric Force. We
have examined the action of each kind of electricity upon itself, and
upon the other kind ; but hitherto we have kept the rubber out of
view. One of the questions which inevitably occur to the inquiring
scientific mind would be, How is the rubber affected by the act of
friction ? Here, as elsewhere, you must examine the subject for your
self, and base your conclusions on the facts you establish.

Test your rubber, then, by your balanced lath. The lath is attract
ed by the flannel, which has rubbed against gutta-percha ; and it K
attracted by the silk, which has rubbed against glass.

Regarding the quality of the electricity of the flannel or of the
silk, the attraction of the lath teaches you nothing. But, suspend
your rubbed glass tube, and bring the flannel rubber near it: repul
sion follows. The silk rubber, on the contrary, attracts the glass
tube. Suspend your rubbed gutta-percha tube, and bring the silk
rubber near it : repulsion follows. The flannel, on the contrary, at
tracts the tube.

The conclusion is obvious : the electricity of the flannel is posi
tive, that of the silk is negative.

But the flannel is the rubber of the gutta-percha, whose electrici
ty is negative ; and the silk is the rubber of the glass, whose elec
tricity is positive. Consequently, we have not only proved the rub
ber to be electrified by the friction, but also proved the electricity
of the rubber to be opposite in quality to that of the body rubbed.

SEC. 12. What is Electricity? Thus far we have proceeded from
fact to fact, acquiring knowledge of a very valuable kind. But facts
alone cannot satisfy us. We seek a knowledge of the principles
which lie behind the facts, and which are to be discerned by the mind
alone. Thus, having spoken, as we have done, of electricity passing
hither and thither, and of its being prevented from passing, hardly
any thoughtful boy or girl can avoid asking, What is it that thus
passes? what is electricity? Boyle and Newton betrayed their
need of an answer to this question when the one imagined his unc
tuous threads issuing from and returning to the electrified body, and
when the other imagined that an elastic fluid existed which penetrated
his rubbed glass.

When I say " imagined " I do not intend to represent the not

36 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of these great men as vain fancies. Without imagination we can do
nothing here. By imagination I mean the power of picturing men
tally things which have an existence as real as that of the world
around us, but which cannot be touched directly by the gross bodily
organs of sense. I mean the purified scientific imagination, without
the exercise of which we cannot take a single step into the region of
causes and principles.

It was by the exercise of the scientific imagination that Franklin
devised the theory of a single electric fluid to explain electrical phe
nomena. This fluid he supposed to be self-repulsive, and diffused in
definite quantities through all bodies. He supposed that when a
body has more than its proper share it is positively, when less than
its proper share it is negatively, electrified. It was by the exercise
of the same faculty that Symmer devised the theory of two electric
fluids, each self-repulsive, but both mutually attractive.

At first sight Franklin s theory seems by far the simpler of the two.
But its simplicity is only apparent. For, though Franklin assumed
only one fluid, he was obliged to assume three distinct actions. Two
of these were the mutual repulsion of the electric particles among
themselves, and the mutual attraction of the electric particles and the
ponderable particles of the body through which the electricity is dif
fused. These two assumptions, moreover, when strictly followed out,
lead to the unavoidable conclusion that the material particles must
also mutually repel each other. Thus the theory is by no means so
simple as it appears.

The theory of Symmer, though at first sight the most complicated,
is in reality by far the simpler of the two. According to it electrical
actions are produced by two fluids, each self-repulsive, but both mu
tually attractive. These fluids cling to the atoms of matter, and
carry the matter to which they cling along with them. Every body,
in its natural condition, possesses both fluids in equal quantities. As
long as the fluids are mixed together they neutralize each other, the
body in which they are thus mixed being in its natural or unelectrical
condition.

By friction (and by various other means) these two fluids may be
torn asunder, the one clinging by preference to the rubber, the other
to the body rubbed.

According to this theory there must always be attraction between
the rubber and the body rubbed, because, as we have proved, they
are oppositely electrified. This is in fact the case. And mark what
I now say. Over and above the common friction, this electrical at
traction has to be overcome whenever we rub glass with silk, or seal
ing-wax with flannel.

You are too young to fully grasp this subject yet ; and indeed it
would lead us too far away to enter fully into it. But I will throw
out for future reflection the remark that the overcoming of the ordi-

RECENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 3;

nary friction produces heat then and there upon the surfaces rubbed,
while the force expended in overcoming the electric attraction may
be converted into a spark which shall appear a thousand miles away
from the place where it was generated.

Theoretic conceptions are incessantly checked and corrected by
the advance of knowledge, and this theory of electric fluids is doubt
ed by many eminent scientific men. It will, at all events, have to be
translated into a form which shall connect it with heat and light, be
fore it can be accepted as complete. Nevertheless, keeping ourselves
unpledged to the theory, we shall find it of exceeding service both in
unraveling and in connecting together electrical phenomena.

RECENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 1

BY CHIEF-JUSTICE DALY,

PRESIDENT OF THE GEOGRAPHICAL 8OCIETT.

year 1875 completed the third quarter of the nineteenth cen-
tury, a period distinguished by the activity which has prevailed
in every branch of scientific inquiry, but particularly distinguished as
a remarkable period of geographical exploration and discovery.

The history of geographical knowledge is a history of its rapid
acquisition in periods very limited in point of time, but of great activ
ity, and of long intervals of repose, in which comparatively little was
done, or a great deal lost that had been previously acquired. For
the last twenty-five years we have been living in one of those periods
of exceptional activity, for at no time has an interest so wide-spread
been manifested for geographical exploration since that great age of
maritime discovery, that began in the early part of the fifteenth cen
tury with the exploration of the western coast of Africa by the Por
tuguese, and culminated in the circumnavigation of the globe by
Magellan. The comparatively small limits of about a century is all
that is embraced from the time (1418), when Prince Henry of Portu
gal, surnamed the Navigator, took up his abode upon the promontory
of Sagres to devote the residue of his life to the fitting out of expedi
tions for the exploration of the coast of Africa beyond Cape Boj:ulor,
a region then wholly unknown, and the year 1519, when Magellan
entered the Pacific by the discovery of the straits that bear his name.
Within that period the captains of Prince Henry had sailed around
the continent of Africa; Columbus had discovered America; his com
panion, Nunez de Balboa, the Pacific ; Sebastian Cabot had followed

1 From advance-sheets (introductory portion) of the President s annual address be
fore the American Geographical Society, on " The Geographical Work of the World in

1875."

38 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the coast of North America to the sixty-seventh parallel of north lati
tude; and Magellan s vessel the Vittoria, after sailing around the
world, had returned in 1522 to San Lucar, in Spain, the port whence
she set out.

The century that followed this period of discovery was occupied
with the more particular exploration and settlement of the regions
thus brought to the knowledge of mankind, and with the labors of
geographers and cartographers in arranging the great mass of new
materials into a reconstructed system of geography. With the ex
ception of fruitless efforts to discover, in the interest of commerce, a
northeast or a northwest passage to the Indies around the northern
part of the globe, or directly across the pole, the zeal for geographi
cal discovery abated through the seventeenth and eighteenth centu
ries ; the world being sufficiently occupied with what it had already
acquired, either in building up great empires in the newly-discovered
continents of North and South America, or by extending the rule of
maritime nations over the coast of Africa, and the remoter parts of
Asia, as in the settlement of the colonies established by the Portu
guese, and by the British conquest of India. In fact, so large a por
tion of the earth s surface had become known within so short a period,
that it presented enough to absorb all the activity of civilized nations
for three centuries in the work of colonization, settlement, or con
quest.

It was not until near the middle of the nineteenth century when
this great work had produced its results in the establishment of such
nations as the United Sta.tes, Mexico, the republics of Central Amer
ica, Brazil, the other states of South America, and of a vast dominion
under British rule in India, and by the extension of Russia over a
large part of Northern Asia, that the attention of mankind was again
drawn to the yet undiscovered or imperfectly known portions of the
earth, and a new interest awakened in geographical exploration and
discovery. This may be said to have begun with the founding of a
Geographical Society in Paris, in 1821 ; of another in Berlin, in 1828,
and the establishment of the Royal Geographical Society of London,
in 1830. These societies were formed to cultivate the science of
geography in a more comprehensive spirit, to facilitate the acquisi
tion of geographical information by the establishment of libraries, to
disseminate it by publications, and to encourage and assist scientific
travelers and explorers. Like all new things, however, it was some
years before these societies produced any effect, or the world recog
nized the value -of the purpose for which they were established;
whereas the results which have since been brought about, chiefly
through the instrumentality of such institutions, are beyond anything
which the most sanguine of their projectors could have anticipated.

The Royal Geographical Society of London may be taken as an
illustration of these societies. It has now 3,035 fellows, each paying

REGENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 39

2 a year, a large permanent capital, and an annual income of $35,000.
It has a building of its own, a fine library and map room, and is able to
send, and has frequently sent out expeditions for geographical explora
tion and discovery, sometimes in cooperation with the government,
and sometimes without it. Before, however, it reached this state it
had, as I have been informed, to struggle for some years, as we have
had, to keep up its organization. The turning-point of its history,
and in its influence, appears to have been the election, in 1843, of Sir
Roderick I. Murchison to the presidency, then in the fullness of h>s
fame as a geologist, but who thenceforth entered upon a new field, and
one by which he was afterward chiefly known. In his first annual ad
dress, an elaborate and exhaustive production, he surveyed the then
state of geographical research throughout the world, and pointed
out with remarkable sagacity that the parts of the globe to which
exploration and research should be directed and concentrated were
central Africa, Australia, and the regions surrounding the north
and south poles. Although his own fame had been made as a geolo
gist, his course then and during the many years that he was the
guiding spirit of the Royal Geographical Society showed very plainly
his conviction that a thorough knowledge of the surface of our own
planet, and of those physical laws that affect everything upon it, is
practically of more importance to us than a knowledge of its past
physical history or of other bodies in space.

It was not that he undervalued the sciences of geology and astron-
omy, which, in fact, form a part of the science of geography ; but the
earth is our own planet, the details of which are within our grasp, and
there is therefore the greater reason why every effort should be di
rected to acquire a thorough knowledge of it, particularly as the in
crease of that knowledge requires widely-extended efforts over differ
ent parts of it, and a vast accumulation of details. I am not now ex
pressing anything he may have said, but rather deducing my own
conclusions of what he thought from what he did. He was evidently
impressed with the conviction that sufficient attention was not then
given to the advancement of the science of geography, and to his emi
nently practical mind it was clear that it was not to be advanced by
simply studying it in the closet, but by explorations and scientific re
searches, requiring persistent efforts, continuous expenditures, and the
labors of a numerous, zealous, and intelligent class of workers over a:
large part of the earth s surface. To accomplish this, the whole age
had to be influenced, governments enlisted, and the different so<>
brought into active cooperation with each other, and it was to this
work that Sir Roderick then set himself, and to which he may be said
to have chiefly devoted the remainder of his life.

I have selected Sir Roderick Murchison rather as a type, for it was
not to him alane, but to many other eminent men in France,.Ger-
inany, Russia, Italy, and other countries, preeminent among

4 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

was Alexander von Humboldt, that the conviction became general
that the unknown, or imperfectly known, parts of the earth should be
thoroughly investigated, and scientific researches actively prosecuted
in respect to all phenomena coming under the general head of phys
ical geography. This has, in fact, brought about, as I have said, a
geographical age. There are now scattered over the globe thirty-four
geographical societies, and, if we add other organizations devoted in
part to geographical inquiry or labors, the number would be augment
ed to about fifty. Many of them are well endowed, large in point of
numbers, and strengthened not only by the cooperation of, but by an
nual grants of money from, the governments of the countries in which
they are situated.

How thoroughly this spirit was aroused, will appear by a brief,
but necessarily imperfect, statement of what has been accomplished
since this movement began.

When it commenced, the map of Africa was, with the exception of
the northwestern projection, above the Gulf of Guinea, and the Nile
region, almost a blank from the Mediterranean to the country in the
vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope. Of the 17,000,000 of square miles
in Asia, about 12,000,000 were either entirely unknown, or wholly cut
off from all intercourse with mankind. The condition of Australia,
with an area of 3,000,000 of square miles, is best expressed by quoting
the language of a geographer of that day. " A corner of this huge
mass of land," he says, "is all that is known." Twenty-five years ago
the European population of Australia was estimated at about 50,000 ;
it is now over 1,500,000, or thirty times as great.

The second island in point of size, and one of the most fruitful in
the world, Papua, or New Guinea, is referred to by the same geogra
pher Murray, as almost a terra incognita, having generally, he then
said, " been viewed only by navigators from a distance ; " and in re
spect to the next great island, Borneo, he puts the population of the
colonies there under the Dutch at about 9,000. In 1870 the popula
tion of the Dutch colonies in Borneo was 189,253. The settled por
tion of the United States then embraced 800,000 square miles, beyond
which was an area of 2,500,000 square miles inhabited by savages,
and almost unknown ; for we knew little of it then beyond what was
known in the time of Jefferson, with the exception of Major Long s
journey and Prof. Nicollet s exploration of the head-waters of the
Mississippi.

This was the state of things at the beginning of the period re
ferred to. I will now enumerate what has been done since, and espe
cially within the last twenty-five years.

In Asia : the opening of the whole of China and Japan ; the acqui
sition by the Russians of nearly the whole of Toorkistan, and the in
auguration of a policy on their part which, either by treaty or mili
tary conquest, will throw open the whole of Northern Asia to the free

REGENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 4l

intercourse of the world. The extensive explorations by them in
Northern Siberia, and of the rivers that flow into the Arctic. The
many journeys, explorations, geographical and archaeological, made
through Southern Arabia, Persia, Afghanistan, Beloochistan, and the
northern regions of India, and explorations of the like character in
Burmah, Siam, and Cambodia. The settlement of the French in Co-
chin-China, and journeys to a -partial extent in Corea, and to a greater
extent in Mantchooria. The Euphrates Expedition. The continuation
of the great survey of India. The survey of Palestine, and the cutting
of the Suez Canal.

In Africa : the discovery of the great lakes, as well those which
are the reservoirs of the Nile, as those lying south of the equator.
The exploration of the country south of Abyssinia, between these lakes
and the eastern coast, and the discovery of the great range of moun
tains in that region, with their snow-capped peaks, the most ele
vated land in Africa. The military occupation of Abyssinia and of
Ashantee by the English ; the extensive journeys and researches in
Northern and Northeastern Africa, by Barth, Overweg, Richardson,
Rohlfs, Schweinfurth, Miani, Nachtigal, and others. The various ex
peditions and individual journeys along the western coast, and the
explorations of its immediate interior by Du Chaillu, Burton, Baines,
Blyden, Gandy, Gussfeldt, etc., etc. The two journeys across Central
Africa, from east to west, and west to east, by Dr. Livingstone ; his
journey from the Cape upward ; his exploration of the Zambezi, and
of the countries by which it is watered ; his discovery of the great
network of rivers and lakes in Central Africa, below the equator, which
he was pursuing at the time of his death, and the following up of that
exploration by Lieutenant Cameron, with the latter s journey through
Central Africa, from east to west. The numerous explorations in
South and Southeastern Africa, from the Orange River to the Limpopo,
and from that point along the eastern coast and its interior, as far as
the parallel of Zanzibar, which, with the exploration of the imperfect
ly known parts of the Island of Madagascar by Grandidier and Mul-
lins, is but a very general statement of what has been done in Africa.
What exploration has accomplished in Africa may be judged by a sin
gle fact. In 1850 the area of cultivated land in Egypt was 2,000,000
of acres; in 1874 it was 5,000,000.

I may next refer to the numerous explorations around and across
the great continent of Australia from Sturt s early journey to the last
ones of Warburton and Forster. The survey of large portions of the
coast of Papua or New Guinea, and explorations in the interior by
Beccaria, D Albertis, Meyer, Van Rosenberg, and MacLeay. The
explorations in Formosa by Steere, Le Gendre, and others, and the
settlement of colonies and the establishment of governments by the
English in New Zealand and the Feejee Islands. The explorations of
the Arctic to within sio-ht of the eighty-third parallel of north latitude,

42 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

including the discovery of the long-sought northwestern passage, and
of its inutility. The exploration of the antarctic circle as far as the
73 of south latitude, and the remarkable discovery that the ice-bound
regions, both of the Arctic and Antarctic, were, at a former period of the
world s history, covered with a luxuriant vegetation, and that plants
and animals then existed there in great abundance, which are found
now only in the tropics, or in the more southern parts of the temperate
zone.

And finally our own explorations of the great Western region,
between the Mississippi and the Pacific, by Fremont, Emory, Simpson,
Marcy, Stansbury, Sitgreaves, Gunnison, Beckwith, Whipple, Wil
liamson, Parke, Warren, Ives, Reynolds, Macomb, Mullen, Wheeler,
and other gallant, efficient, and distinguished military officers con
ducting reconnoissances or expeditions across its plains, deserts, and
mountains, accompanied in these expeditions by scientific civilians, to
whose labors we are indebted for our knowledge of its geology, agri
cultural resources, and natural history. Among strictly scientific
works by civilians I should also enumerate Whitney s survey of Cali
fornia, followed by King and Gardner s belt of geological and topo
graphical survey across the North American Cordilleras, Hayden and
Gardner s survey in the Rocky Mountains, and Powell and Thompson s
of the great canons of the Colorado, through whose united labors so
much of the geography of this vast region has become known ; its
great mountain-ranges, extraordinary canons, wonderful geysers, deep
ly interesting ruins of a prehistoric and semi-civilized people of whom
we know but little ; its lakes, rivers, majestic cataracts, broad areas
of cultivable land, already largely and to be still more extensively
settled, and finally the millions it has yielded in gold and silver ; a
region so vast beyond the one hundredth meridian, that it will be
twenty years before we obtain proper maps of it, unless the Govern
ment is more liberal in providing for its exploration and survey than
it has hitherto been.

To these geographical labors and explorations within this period
in various parts of the globe must also be added extensive researches
of a geographical character, such as deep-sea dredgings, for the inves
tigation of the temperature of the ocean, the movements of submerged
currents, the plant and animal life existing at great depths, and the
configuration of the bottom of the seas. The observation and study
of oceanic currents and their cause. The distribution of heat north
and south of the equator by the instrumentality of these currents, and
its effects upon climate, as well as the effect of the currents from polar
regions in modifying the heat of the equator. The meteorological ob
servations in respect to the course of the winds ; and the investiga
tions of the laws and of the cause of hurricanes, cyclones, and other
aerial disturbances. The magnetic observations in elucidation of the
difficult subject of terrestrial magnetism. The numerous measure-

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 43

monts of great mountain-heights in the more elevated regions of the
glbue. The extensive survey of coasts, prominent among which is our
own great Coast Survey. The trigonometrical surveys carried on in
many countries in Europe. The investigation of the cause of the
glacial epoch, and possibly of inter-glacial epochs, or a succession of
alternate warm and cold periods, each extending over long epochs of
time, and their effect in bringing about the present condition of the
earth s surface by changes in the level of the sea and the submergence
of the land.

This very inadequate statement will show how great, wide-spread,
and constant has been the w^ork of exploration and research within the
period referred to, and how truly it may be denominated a geographi
cal age.

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE EOCKY MOUNTAINS.

BY ERNEST INGERSOLL.

IN the summer of 1874 it was my privilege to accompany one of the
parties of the United States Geological Survey of the Territories,
of which Dr. F. V. Hayden is chief. The field of operations was the
mountainous region of Southern Colorado, and it afforded a good op
portunity to examine the natural history of the region traversed.

The mammals of the Rocky Mountains have long been well known,
particularly the large game, which, except in the distant portions of
the Territory of Colorado, has been greatly depleted by the constant
pursuit of hunters and trappers. The case is somewhat the same with
the game-birds; while the enthusiastic labors of Henshaw, Aiken,
Allen, Coues, and other ornithologists, have given us a very complete
knowledge of all the birds and their habitats. The fishes and reptiles
have received some attention too ; and, in the lower, invertebrate forms
of life, the investigations of Thomas upon the grasshoppers, Carpenter
on the butterflies and moths, and Edwards, Packard, and Hagen on
other insects, and the reports upon Crustacea and worms by Verrill,
Smith, Leidy and others, have given us a tolerable knowledge of the
extent to which those forms are to be found in that region. But the
mollusks of the mountains land-snails, pond-snails, river-snails, and
fresh-water mussels have been almost entirely neglected, except by
Dr. Cooper, in the north. From Colorado only seven had been reported,
which were collected by Lieutenant Carpenter. This, then, seemed to be
the field most needing cultivation, and my attention was chiefly turned
to it durincr three months of wandering over the mountain-ranges,
parks, and sterile plains, that diversify the country between Midd
Park and the corner of Arizona. Something was found at
every camp, and, when the collection was at home and counted, it was

44 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

somewhat surprising to find over fifty species, only nine of which had
been hitherto known to exist in the Central Province, where an ex
treme "paucity of species, .... owing to the nature of its climate
and soil," had been alleged. Five of these species were new to science,
and have since been described in the " Bulletin of the United States
Geological Survey," second series, No. 2, which has since been re
printed in an extended and revised form, in the Annual Report of the
Survey for 1874.

The Central Province alluded to above is the name given by Mr.
W. G. Binney 1 to that portion of the United States embraced be
tween the crests of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade Mountains on the
west and the edge of the great plains on the east. It was considered
to be unfavorable to the development of pulmonates and deficient in
the number of species to be found, and that its fauna was closely
allied to that of the Eastern States, whence it had been largely derived
by way of the north, where the plains are succeeded by forests and
the Rocky Mountains dwindle into hills.

With respect to this distribution of mollusks in Colorado, none were
found on the eastern slope of the range, although there is no conclusive
evidence that they do not exist there ; altitude seemed to have very
little influence upon their dispersion, as long as other favorable con
ditions were present, and some species had a very local distribution.

The eastern slope of the Snowy Range is abrupt, and receives com
paratively little rain. Westward of the summit, however, certain
genera as Zonites, Vitrina, Vallonia, Patula, Pupa, Succinea, and
Pisidium were everywhere represented. Vitrinas and pupas were,
perhaps, the most common forms, the latter being particularly numer
ous on the Sierras in the southeastern corner of the Territory, where
Pupilla alticola were traced up to the very limit of timber-growth,
and upon the face of precipitous cliffs of volcanic rock, in whose clefts
only tufts of grass could gain a foothold. With the latter shell also
occurred some small succineas, and a mollusk with a delicate, box-
shaped shell, only one-tenth of an inch in diameter. Plenty of these
little fellows, as lively as could be, were to be found at the astonish
ing height of 11,500 feet. They proved to be undescribed, and to
belong to the sub-genus Microphysa, the two American species of
which, heretofore known, are natives of the Gulf coast and the West
Indies. W T hy this species should depart so far from the habits of its
congeners as to thrive best in the arctic climate of these mountain-
tops, is strange. This Microphysa was afterward met with in the
valleys south of these Sierras, and in the mountains west of North
Park. In this same southern group of mountains many other shells
were found at a lesser altitude, but where water froze every night in
August of the same species as existed in other parts of the Territory,

1 In the " Bulletin of the Museum of Comparative Zoology " (Cambridge, Mass.), vol.
iii., No. 9, " Geographical Distribution of North American Mollusca."

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 45

and, indeed, all over the Central Province. The finding of Pupilla
Blandi, heretofore known only as a fossil in Missouri Kiver drift
living and abundant, is an instance worthy of special mention.

It would seem, then, that a range of high mountains, or any number
of ranges, would not offer a serious obstacle to the migration of land
mollusks, or an insurmountable one to fresh-w r ater forms. The wide
spread dissemination of such slow-moving creatures is a curious argu
ment for the length of time that the country must have remained in
substantially its present condition.

The Sierras of which I have spoken are those which encircle Baker s
Park and the San Juan mining region, and extend westward to the
base of the great Uncompahgre Mountains, which trend northward not
far from the Utah line. This group of volcanic and quartzite peaks
constitutes the highest land anywhere in that region, and gives source
both to the Rio Grande del Norte and to the head-waters of the Great
Colorado River. Its steep southern sides are gashed with tremen
dous gulches through which the Rio las Animas, the Rio La Plata, the
Rio los Mancos, and other streams, which go to make up the Rio San
Juan, flow out into the terrible canon-cut deserts that stretch away
across Arizona to the Gila River. For a few miles after emerging
from their rocky gates, these rivers water beautiful and fertile valleys,
which are cut through the sandstones upturned against the intruded
peaks, and which abound in springs. In these valleys are plenty of
timber and undergrowth, the climate is rarely cold enough for snow
even in winter, arid there I expected to gather a rich conchological
harvest. In this I was not disappointed, only regretting that I could
not make a more thorough examination than was permitted by the
rapidity of our travel. Between the Animas and La Plata the trail
passes through a valley between the lowest of the foot-hills, where
there is a pond of several acres extent, resorted to by all sorts of wild
fowl, inhabited by many forms of amphibious life, and choked with an
exuberant aquatic vegetation. Here were found thousands of limneas
of several species, and quantities of the common PlanorUs trivolvis
showing a large range of variation among themselves. Like the lim
neas, the planorbs were extremely fragile in texture, which may be
owing partly to the soft bottom, and partly to the scarcity of lime in
the water ; and they were distinguished by a short vertical diameter,
which peculiarity, also, may have been acquired by them from the
necessities of their habitat, since snails having shells with small breadth
of beam could most advantageously pass between the stalks of stand
ing water-plants that everywhere crowded the pond. But the as
tonishing fact about this pond was, that on the shore were found per
fect specimens although dead of the marine genus Truncatella, a
broken specimen of an Area, and living crabs pronounced by Prof.
Sidney I. Smith, of New Haven, to be true salt-water forms belonging
to the family Astacidoe. That these are survivors of the period, prob-

46 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ably comparatively recent, when here was a soft-water marsh that
remained caught in this basin among the hills after the country, for a
long distance south of it, had become dry land, seems very evident.
It is difficult otherwise to account for their presence.

Farther on, in the valley of the Rio La Plata, where it emerges
from its magnificent quartz canon, and where the gold placer-mines
and prospective city of La Plata are situated, a fine collecting-ground
was found. This was so far south that many deciduous trees grew in
the river-bottoms, and nearly every terrestrial species hitherto met
with was there to be had in plenty. For the next ten days we were
entirely in the lava-blasted, treeless and waterless deserts on the
northern margin of the Rio San Juan, engaged in exploring the ves
tiges of that ancient semi-civilized race of village Indians, the rem
nants of which still exist in the small tribe of Moquis on the Little
Colorado. During this time no mollusks were found except, where
there was a little moisture, a few pupas, which seem able to live any
where, and many bleached shells of various species that had been
drifted down from the mountains at times of high water.

Our return-journey from the San Juan country was made from its
very sources along the course of the Rio Grande. It led us through
Antelope Park, on the eastern side of which lies St. Mary s Lake, a
beautiful little sheet of crystal water studded with islands, and held
among precipitous cliffs that afford it no visible outlet. It seems to
be merely a great rocky basin, holding the melted snows of the sur
rounding heights. Its surface is over 9,000 feet above the sea. There
existed in countless numbers in this lake a large species of coil-shell
which was a nondescript, and which I have since named Helisoma
plexata. Each of the hundreds of individuals seen possessed in a more
or less marked degree a twisted appearance, resulting from a change
in the plane of revolution in old age, which is the most striking specific
character. This sudden change in the directness of the growth causes
the carina of the third whorl to rise into a sharp shoulder on the right
side, while on the opposite side the third whorl sinks underneath the
overflowing outer whorl. A similar change often occurs in the fourth
whorl, giving a braided look to the shell. How this species came al
most alone to inhabit this secluded lake is a problem, complicated by
the fact that probably there is not another large Planorbis within
fifty miles. That the wild-fowls, abundant on the lake, brought the
eggs clinging to their feet, may be a plausible explanation; but where
did they bring them from, and when ? The bottom of the lake is, for
the most part, rough conglomerate rock, and is in many places filled
with tangled water-plants, which may partially account for the pecu
liarities of the species. The shells of this genus appear to be especially
subject to distortion under abnormal conditions.

Continuing our course down the valley of the Rio Grande to the
town of Del Norte, we there left the river and struck across the San

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 47

Luis Valley to Mosca Pass through the Sangre de Cristo Range. This
alkali and sage-brush plain, fifty miles wide, is very far from being
" the garden of the world," as it has been styled. Near the eastern
side is a group of lakes, the water of which is highly alkaline. These
lakes are the abode and breeding-place of wild geese and ducks in the
greatest number, which are tormented without end by the gulls that
also make the lakes their home. On the gravelly beaches I picked up
many shells, and doubtless in the deep water many more species might
have been dredged, had there been time. But nowhere were there
any bivalves, except the little cyclades. The fact that there was no
lack of molluscan life in these intensely bitter waters was not surpris
ing, since mollusks seem to flourish in mineral springs of both hot and
cold water everywhere. We had seen before a fine illustration of this
adaptation to peculiar conditions. The Grand River, which flows
through Middle Park, contains no mollusks at all that I could dis
cover; but at Hot Springs, in a little lagoon filled at high water,
large, clear, ampullacea-Yike forms of the familiar Physa heterostropha
were common. Close by, in the few yards of exposed outlet of the
springs of hot sulphur-water from which the locality derives its name,
there occurred in the greatest profusion a blackish, globose variety of
the same species only one-fifth of an inch long. The temperature of
this water was at some points as high as 100 Fahr. Tn the basin of
a still hotter spring not ten feet away, whose waters were saturated
with chlorides of sodium and magnesium, hundreds of still smaller
Physce, were floating about in mats glued together by a tangle of con-
fervoid vegetation and the depositions of the water. All these seemed
to have lost their apices by erosion, " which is extremely liable to
happen to shells living in water charged with alkaline salts other than
lime." On the other hand, quite as small and black were the examples
from the pure cold springs near Saguache, where there was seemingly
nothing whatever to stunt their growth.

I was stimulated, by the results of rny study of my own collection
from Colorado, to gather all possible information about the mollusks
of the Central Province generally, as it has been limited above. The
bibliography was quite large, but the notes of locality and station
very meagre. Tabulating the sum of the information open to me,
and including my own summer s work, I found that 138 nominal
species had been recorded as occurring in this inter-montanic region.
Of these, 49 were also Californian species; 15 occurred also in the
Eastern United States; 8 hailed from the Colorado Desert; 7 were
found all over the continent, and 8 all over the world ; and 3 belonged
in the Eastern Province, west ofnhe Alleghanies only. This left 47
nominal species, whese range, so far as yet known, is confined to the
Central Province. Many of the specific names in this list, however,
rest upon very insecure foundations, and will, no doubt, soon be re
duced to synonyms. With respect to their vertical distribution, ob-

48 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

servations in the Rocky Mountains do not tally well with D Orfo gny s
notes from the Andes, since out of 156 species discovered in South
America, he found only 13 between the thirty-fourth and forty-fifth
parallels of latitude which corresponds to the district of north lati
tude considered here and only 10 species were found above 5,000
feet. My list of the Rocky Mountain mollusca, on the contrary, shows
that 55 species out of the 138 inhabit heights exceeding 5,000 feet,
and 10 species have been found above 10,000 feet. These latter,
however, are all recorded from mountains south of the thirty-ninth
parallel ; but it is safe to say that, where there is moisture, a goodly
collection of mollusks can be made in the mountains of the Terri
tories all "the way up to the timber-line. This is probably true of all
parts of the world.

In a recent paper on the hypsometric distribution of mollusca in
Europe, communicated to the French Academy of Sciences at Paris,
at their meeting on October 11, 1875, M. P. Fischer alludes to the
great regularity with which plants thrive on mountains, each at a
certain height. The terrestrial mollusca, being unprovided with means
of locomotion enjoyed by birds and insects, and being, moreover,
dependent upon vegetable life for food, could not fail to be discovered
in the same way as plants, and this supposition he confirmed by ob
servation. Each species extends to an altitude the limits of which it
does not overstep. M. Fischer has verified this in the central Pyrenees
as well as in the Alps, and divided the altitudes into five zones, com
prised between 1,500 feet and 7,500 feet. Each zone is distinguished
by the name of a species of Helix. Thus, in the Pyrenees, the first
zone, ending at a height of 3,000 feet, is called that of Helix carthu-
siana ; the second, ending at 3,600 feet, Helix aspersa ; the third,
terminating at 4,500 feet, Helix limbata ; the fourth, limited at 6,000
feet, Helix nemoralis and the fifth, ending at 7,500 feet, Helix caras-
calensis. In the Alps, at the same altitudes, the names of the zones
are respectively Helix carthusiana, obvoluta^ Fontenelli, sylvatica, and
glacialis. A few individual mollusks will, indeed, climb as high as
9,000 feet, but they all stop at the limit of perpetual snow. Various
genera of fluviatile mollusks do not ascend higher than 3,000 feet, a
circumstance which the author considered of some importance to
geologists, since it proves that in the quaternary beds the fossiliferous
strata containing those genera, such as Neritina, Paludina, etc., were
deposited at small altitudes. The Lake of Goube, about three hours
walk from Cauterets, 5,364 feet above the level of the sea, is thickly
peopled with trout, frogs, and mollusks.

The results of this inquiry into the geographical distribution of
mollusks in the mountainous West are meagre enough, but may be of
some use in future investigations. Whether this central region is a
true zoological province considered with reference to the mollusca,
and what is the origin of its fauna, are hardly to be answered yet.

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIE BIG. 49

Enough seems to be known, however, to show that this inter-montanic
region is not so deficient as has been supposed, either in the number
of its species or in representatives of adjoining faunas. The impres
sion that the Central Province is unfavorable to pulmonate growth
also seems wrong, except in respect to the scarcity of lime in the soil,
to which cause we may probably attribute the fact that the more
minute forms are in large majority.

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIEBIG. 1

BY J. L. W. THUDTCHUM, M. D.

JUSTUS LIEBIG was born on the 12th of May, 1803, at Darmstadt,
in the grand-duchy of Hesse. His father was what in this country
(England) we should term a wholesale druggist and dry-salter, a trade
which is in Germany designated by the name of materialist. There
is no doubt that the opportunities which he had of collecting chemical
reagents, and of witnessing the preparation of many products which
were the objects of his father s trade, early excited in him that curi
osity which soon became an insatiable thirst. It is related on credit
able testimony that at the age of fourteen years he had performed all
the experiments of which he could get knowledge from books, or for
which within his means he could obtain the materials, and it is related
by himself that about that time there was not a work in the library
of the Grand-duke of Darmstadt on chemistry which he had not read.
Looking at his early days by the light of that information, we cannot
doubt that the anecdote ordinarily told of his having been a dull boy
is a mere mistake. He was abstracted by other pursuits, and there
fore, no doubt, neglected his school-work, but that he should have
been less gifted than others cannot, under the circumstances, be be
lieved. It is related by a credible person that in 1817, when he and
his school-fellows were speaking to each other as to what pursuit they
were to select, he said that he was going to be a chemist, whereupon
the other boys laughed at him and told him he was a great fool, for a
chemist was nothing. However, times have changed, and what at
that time was considered as no pursuit is now an honored profession.
In the year 1818 he gave a distinct direction to that early bent of
his mind, and he followed almost the only way which at that time
existed in Germany for studying chemistry ; he became an apprentice
in an ordinary apothecary s establishment. An apothecary in Ger
many is a more scientific person than perhaps many would believe.
He has had a thorough training, he has passed examinations, and he
represents, therefore, the scientific side of chemistry, pharmacy, and
1 From the " Cantor Lectures " delivered before the Society of Arts.
TOL. ix. 4

5 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the science of drugs in perfection. To such an apothecary, residing at
Heppenheim, near Darmstadt, Liebig went, and remained there about
ten months, but in that occupation as an apprentice his mind soon
became wearied, he saw that he could not attain his object ; and when,
while continuing some of his early experiments on the fulminates, on
one occasion he had the misfortune to produce a great explosion,
this fact quickly terminated his apprenticeship, and he returned to
Darmstadt. These explosions in the early days of great chemists are
not uncommon. It is related in the case of Scheele that, when he was
apprenticed to an apothecary, he once had a great explosion, in con
sequence of which his landlady expelled him from the house.

Liebig returned to his father s house in the year 1814, and read for
six months in order to prepare himself for visiting the University of
Bonn. He there listened to the lectures on theoretical chemistry of
the well-known Prof. Kastner, and he also studied the other natural
sciences and some languages, and, what is very characteristic of his
great genius and perseverance, he formed a society among the stu
dents for the purpose of teaching one another, and for discussing sub
jects connected with chemistry and physics. Kastner being called to
Erlangen, Liebig followed him there, and we are told that there he
read all the new chemical publications, established another students
society for the same object as the first, and made many friends among
the students, of whom several continued that friendship up to their
death. Thus the celebrated poet, Count Platen, corresponded with
him to the time of his death in 1830, and of this friendship we can see
many congenial influences in the writings of Liebig, for there is no
doubt that, in his " Familiar Letters on Chemistry," the language,
although always prose, frequently rises to the highest beauty, such as
can only be produced by a mind of a poetical turn. The same influ
ence of the classical period of German literature you will also perceive
for example in the writings of Humboldt, particularly in his "Views
on Nature," which are therefore considered as examples of classical
German diction. Liebig also made the acquaintance of Bischof, the
botanist, and of Engelhard, later Professor of Chemistry at Nurem
berg. He went in for the severe study of what at that time was called
philosophy, that is, he listened to the lectures on metaphysics and
philosophy in general, of the then great Schelling. Now, let me give
you the words of Liebig on that period of his life. He says : " I my
self studied for some time in a university where the greatest philoso
phers and metaphysicians of the century carried the studying youths
away to admiration and imitation. Who could at that time resist the
infection ? I, too, have lived and participated in this period so rich
in words and ideas, so poor in true knowledge and solid studies: it
has robbed me of two precious years of my life. I cannot describe
the terror and dismay which I felt when I awoke from this giddy
dream to consciousness. How many most gifted and talented men

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIEBIG. 51

have I seen perish in this vertigo, how many wails about life-objects
completely missed have I been obliged to hear afterward ! " Thus he
spoke in his work on the study of the natural sciences, which was pub
lished at Brunswick in 1840.

Now, in order that you may be able to apprehend what this kind
of philosophy was, and to understand more fully the position from
which he had to emancipate himself, even at that early time of his
life, I will quote to you a very few passages, and I will make them as
short as possible, compatible with illustration, from one of Schelling s
works, from the periodical for speculative physics mark the term,
" Speculative Physics." I will quote the following passage : " Nature
strives in the dynamical sphere necessarily to absolute indifference,
not by magnetism nor by electricity is represented the totality of the
dynamical process, but only by the chemical process. With the third
dimension of the product the two other dimensions are opposed. In
Nature itself there is one and inseparate, what is separated for the pur
pose of speculation." That is almost enough, but I will give you an
other passage which will be more striking because of the contrary
itself being known to you. Here he says of the composition of water :
" Water contains just the same as iron, but in absolute indifference as
yonder in relative indifference, carbon and nitrogen, and thus all true
polarity of the earth is reduced to an original south and north which
are fixed in the magnet." Now, in order that you may believe that he
did not merely speak of an admixture or impurity of carbon or nitro
gen, but that he meant to say that it was the essence of water, and
that it was really composed of these two elements, and not of any
other, he goes on to say : " The animal is in organic Nature the iron ;
the plant is the water, for Nature begins with the relative separation
of the sexes, and then ends in this separation. The animal decomposes
the iron, the plant decomposes the water. The female and the male
sex of the plant is the carbon and the nitrogen of the water." These
are two examples of the philosophy of Schelling, which was believed
at that time to be the science by which Germany could be regenerated,
by which the generation which had then only just recovered its inde
pendence would be put on a firm mental basis. The followers of this
system were called to the court of Prussia, and there Hegel, the phi
losopher, continued in a similar manner to teach doctrines which now
adays seem to be but a farrago of nonsense. Hegel says, for example,
on the chemical process : " If electricity was the broken magnetism,
because the opposite poles are independent bodies upon which the
positive and negative electricity is distributed, and if the point of
indifference is the explosion of an indifferent light by itself, then is the
chemical process, on the other hand, the totality of the shaping. We
have two independent bodies which belong more to the one or the
other extreme ; to the metal on the one hand, or the sulphur on the
other, which meet in an indifferent medium, and by abandoning their

52 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

abstract one-sidediiess in which they decompose the medium combine
to a third body which is the totality and the neutrality of the oppo-
sites, the dynamical process in its highest perfection."

When a young man of seventeen or eighteen years of age is capa
ble of freeing himself from the trammels of such a chimera termed
philosophy, which had taken such a deep hold of a whole nation as to
cause to flock to the university where it was taught the selected youth
of the whole country, you may give him credit for great power of
mind and for great independence of judgment. Do not forget that
this development of the philosophy of Schelling and Hegel was a con
sequence of the latter part of the philosophy of Kant. Kant s phi
losophy was great as long as it was based on the exact sciences, upon
physics, and upon mathematics, but when he left that basis and went
into the speculative philosophy he gradually went away from that
basis which had made his early philosophy so sound and so full of
meaning for the perfection of the human understanding. On the other
hand, when you come to a further development of the same philoso
phy, namely, that of Fichte, there the speculative part vanishes en
tirely into insignificance, because that which Fichte taught was not
such kind of nonsense as that which I have read to you, but it was a
kind of moral philosophy which spoke to the youth of Germany, and
taught them this one great proposition, which every one of them
ought to feel, and which is the first condition of self-consciousness in
man, namely, "I am I;" this was the great teaching of Fichte, by
which he brought home to men their own value and their own powers,
which cannot be said was the result of the other philosophy from
which I have quoted.

In 1822 Liebig, having emancipated himself from this kind of
teaching, took the degree of Doctor of Philosophy at Erlangen, when
he was nineteen years old. In the autumn of that year he returned
to Darmstadt ; his researches and endeavors then became known, and
he attracted the attention of the Grand-duke Ludwig I., of Hesse-
Darmstadt, who conferred upon him a state stipend, to enable him to
continue his studies at Paris. To Paris, therefore, he went. Now let
us for a moment consider what was then the condition of chemistry
at Paris. Lavoisier, the great reformer, who had established what
was then called the antiphlogistic chemistry, had thirty years before
died on the scaffold ; Guy ton de Morveau, Fourcroy, and Berthollet,
whom the first Napoleon called the plus brave des Fran$ais, because
he gave him chlorate of potassium, by which he hoped to overcome
the want of nitre for his gunpowder; the great Societe d Arcueil,
which worked through the whole of the war-times zealously at science,
and published its memoirs all these men had passed away. But there
remained their disciples in the persons of Proust, Chevreul, Yauquelin,
Gay-Lussac, Thenard, and Dulong. Chevreul is the only one of these
celebrated men who now lives, and he has lately published, in the

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIE BIG. 53

Comptes Rendus, a very remarkable paper on the changes which are
produced in the power of thinking and observing by age. Fourcroy
the great animal chemist, who, in connection with Vauquelin, laid the
foundation of that physiological chemistry on which the modern sci
ence is based ; then Gay-Lussac, Thenard, and Dulong, men of the
new science, who continued the work in a most glorious manner, which
in this country had been carried to such a glorious issue by Humphry
Davy these men were at that time teaching at Paris, and at the
laboratory which the liberality of the first Napoleon and his envy
of English discoveries had established at L^cole Poly technique.
They contiued to study and shape the new science which was destined
to give to the modern science of chemistry precision.

Liebig then worked with Thenard, listened to Gay-Lussac s lectures,
and he met there the young German chemists, Runge, well known by
his many researches on tar, and the tar products; Mitscherlich, the
discoverer of isomorphism and polymorphism; Gustav Rose, the
representative of the perfection of analytical and inorganic chemistry.
In 1823 he brought his first paper on the fulminates of silver and
mercury before the Academy. And now, let me quote to you what
he says of that event in the first work which he ever published. In
the preface, which is a dedication to Alexander von Humboldt, he
says that at the meeting of the Academy, on the 28th of July, 1823,
he had read his paper, and was just engaged in packing up his appa
ratus and preparations, when a man, one of the members of the Acad
emy, approached him, entered into conversation with him, and in an
incredibly short space of time knew how to elicit from him all his
hopes, schemes, and intentions. He did not dare to ask, either from
shyness or from accident, who the gentleman was who spoke to him,
and he disappeared again among the academicians. But he says:
"From that day all the doors of society, and of all institutions, were
open to me. I did not know until many years afterward to whom I
owed this introduction and favor." It was to Humboldt, who had so
well recommended him to the great French chemists that Gay-Lussac,
who never took any pupil whatever into his laboratory, accepted him
as his only pupil, and, more than that, joined with him in his continu
ation of those researches which at that early age he had brought to
such perfection. This preface is beautiful in its conception and feel
ing, and has been printed in all the seven editions of the work which
have since been published. If there were time this would, perhaps,
be the place to show the wonderful influence which Humboldt has
exercised upon the science of all countries; but I must pass over
that subject, and continue the account of Liebig s life.

Through the recommendations of Humboldt and Gay-Lussac, both
of which were addressed directly to the Grand-duke of Hesse-Darm
stadt, Liebig was, at the age of twenty-one years, by the supreme will
and absolute power of the grand-duke, appointed first Professor of

54 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Chemistry in the University of Giessen. A new chair was established
for him, and as a laboratory he received a room, as he expresses it,
with four walls. Great was the opposition against this new professor ;
for what was chemistry? Chemistry was no science, nobody knew
anything of chemistry, nobody would have it. Moreover, the appoint
ment had not been made in the regular way, therefore the whole of
the authorities of the university set themselves against it. The con
sequence was that the majority of that university persecuted that
man for twenty-seven years ; and, no matter what was his reputation,
the amount of his work, or the importance of his position, for twenty-
seven years this man could never once be made Rector of the Univer
sity of Giessen. But where are the opposing influences now ? History
will not mention their names. Their ultramontane participators tried
to decry the great man as an atheist and materialist, and by that
means to remove from him the assistance of the state, and to diminish
his chance of gaining a living. But he was too strong for all of them.
In the year 1826 he was appointed Professor in Ordinary, a promotion
by which he became a fixed servant of the state and a fixed member
of the university. In that year he married Henrietta Moldenhauer,
a most amiable lady, who now survives him.

Now comes the period of work which lasted to the year 1834. The
work itself I will not now enter upon, but we will, in future lect
ures, see what was the nature of that work. We will perform before
your eyes some of those operations by which that work has become
of the utmost importance to mankind at large; and you can then see
how, from a small point, there can be a light shed upon the largest
problems of science.

In this year 1834, however, Liebig fell ill from overwork and anxie
ty. A portrait, which was taken at that time by the now deceased
painter Engel, gives evidence of that, and I remember that the late
Prof. Zamminer told me that he had seen Liebig about that time
taking short walks in the evening air, looking pale and haggard, like
a man in consumption, with little spots of hectic on his cheeks, and
that his friends were afraid he would soon die. At that time he re
tired from Giessen for a while, and went to Baden-Baden, in the hope
of recruiting his health. The patience which he had exercised for
many years, under the most narrow arrangements, then gave way, and
he asked for the building of a new lecture-room, the arrangement of
a proper laboratory, and for an increase of salary. All was refused
by the narrow-minded Government of Hesse-Darmstadt, through that
close-minded man, the then chancellor, Yon Linde. Then Liebig
wrote to Yon Linde a letter, in which, after the introduction, he con
tinues thus :

"I should have gained some convenience by these arrangements, but they
were not intended for me personally ; they would have been of lasting value for
the university, and would have secured to the chemical chair an advantage over

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIEBIG. 55

all others in Germany. For the institutions of a university the largest sums
may be expended, for this increases the respect and affection for them ; but the
suitable employment of these sums must be strictly controlled. The sums are
there, but they are used in an intolerably ridiculous manner. I must be certain
of what I may have to expect at Giessen. If driven to extremities I shall not
return there this winter, whether I obtain leave or not. I shall know how to
justify this step, for no one has been maltreated in the university in a more
conspicuous manner. One cannot live at Giessen upon a salary of 800 florins.
Four years ago I, in conjunction with four colleagues, asked for an increase
of salary; it has been refused. You (the Chancellor von Linde) have as
sured me with smiles that the state treasury had no funds; from this I saw
that you have never known grief and torturing care for the daily bread. From
the moment of that refusal I have endeavored to acquire an independent posi
tion by ceaseless work ; my exertions have not been without success, but they
have surpassed my strength, and I have become an invalid ; and if now, when
I do not require the state any longer, I consider that with a few miserable hun
dred florins more my health need not have suffered in former years, because my
life would have been more free from care, the hardest thought for me is that my
situation was known to you. The means which the laboratory possesses have
been too small from the beginning. I had four walls given to me instead of a
furnished laboratory. Notwithstanding my requests, no sum for furnishing the
same, or for buying apparatus, has been provided. I required instruments and
specimens, and have been obliged to spend on these items annually from 300 to
400 florins from my own means; besides the famulus paid by the state I re
quired an assistant, who costs me 320 florins deduct both expenses from my
salary, and there remains not enough to clothe my children,. From this original
treatment of the laboratory the consequence has arisen that it possesses no
property, for I can show that the arrangements, fittings, instruments, specimens,
which have made the Giessen laboratory I can say it without blushing the
first in Germany, are my property. I will say nothing more about myself my
account with Giessen is closed. My path is not the one of reptiles, the easiest
though the dirtiest. What I have said will suffice to justify with the ministry
and the prince my resolution not to lecture at Giessen during this winter (1834-
35). If I am in health I may not lack the poweT to establish a kind of univer
sity for my branches of science at my own risk. If I am not permitted, and if
I receive my conge, this will free me from the charge of ingratitude toward the
country from the means of which my scientific training has been possible. I have
learned to bear much injustice, many a false judgment, but this reproach of in
gratitude would be too heavy for me to bear."

This letter pictures to you the conditions which prevailed at Darm
stadt, but it is still more important, because it shows that such strong
language was required to bring down the ministry, and that which no
kind of friendly representation had been able to effect, this threat did.
In 1835 he had to take compulsory repose. I find in the list of his
publications only three small papers dating from this period, of which
one only was a research ; but in almost every other year there were
from ten to twenty researches and publications.

In 1836 another active period begins. In that year there were
nine researches by himself alone, thirteen by himself and Pelouze. In
1837 there were nine researches by himself and five with WOhler, in-

5 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

eluding the celebrated one on lithic acid, and two with the celebrated
French chemist Dumas. In that year the British Association for the
Advancement of Science, at their Liverpool meeting, made a request
to him to write a report on the then state of knowledge of organic
chemistry. It was this report which originated the work which he
published in 1840, namely, the work entitled "Organic Chemistry in
its Application to Agriculture and Physiology." In 1838 he pub
lished a memoir on the state of chemistry in Austria, in which he ex
hibited its shortcomings in trenchant language, and the effect upon
the Austrian Government was such as no one would have expected.
In reply to his essay he received the offer of a chair at Vienna.
" Come to us," they said, " reform our chemistry, and we will give
you a chair." But the conditions were not sufficient, and the Aus
trian Government, having received Liebig s refusal to go to Vienna,
at their own expense sent a number of young chemists to Giessen,
there to study chemistry under Liebig, and to prepare themselves for
the important function of becoming teachers of the new chemistry in
Austria. In the year 1840 he published the work which I have already
mentioned, and he also published a memoir on the state of chemistry
in Prussia. You know what was the state of Prussia in 1840; the
promises made by the king in the year 1813, regarding a liberal con
stitution, had all been falsified, a narrow-minded bureaucracy gov
erned everything, a minister of education who did not comprehend
his time could not understand that physical science required any pro
motion, or any state help. He soon went into that movement which
has been described as Muckerthum, a kind of pietism which shows itself
by casting up the eyes in a praying attitude, having God more on the
tongue than in the heart ; by a mock-modest morality which would,
for example, have caused the council of this institution to have those
beautiful nymphs on our walls painted over with drapery. Under
these circumstances no science could progress, and there was not in
the whole of Prussia a single establishment, laboratory, or teaching-
room where a man could learn practical or even theoretical chemistry.
It was the great boast of even talented teachers of chemistry, that all
the apparatus they required for teaching was a dozen test-tubes.
This attack on the state of chemistry in Prussia had no effect what
ever of a good kind, but, on the contrary, the bureaucracy used its
power and influence to prevent the Prussian youth from visiting the
University of Giessen, and I have the authority of Kolbe that for a
time the visiting this university was actually forbidden to young
Prussians.

About this period Liebig purchased from the municipality of
Giessen a sand-pit, at a place called Trieb, on a little height east of
the town, and there he made experiments on vegetable physiology.
This place bears the name of " Liebig s Height " to the present day,
and I dare say it will bear it for many years to come. He also pub-

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIE BIG. S7

lished his work on " Chemistry in its Application to Physiology and
Pathology," which he dedicated to Berzelius. In 1844 appeared his
first " Familiar Letters on Chemistry," in the Augsburg Gazette.
These letters were afterward published with many new ones from time
to time in several editions, and by this means he contributed greatly
to make chemistry popular, while still keeping it in the most scientific
form needful. In 1850 he published a pamphlet on spontaneous com
bustion, on the occasion of the death of the Countess Gorlitz, who had
by experts and doctors at Darmstadt and Giessen been declared to
have perished from spontaneous combustion, but it was afterward
found out that she had not perished in that way, but that she had
been murdered by her butler, and afterward burnt. About this time
also Liebig effected a reform in the medical studies and examinations
in the University of Giessen, and this reform was so important, and
effected by so great a participation of public opinion, that we see
there how great was his power, although in the university itself he
was kept out of office as far as possible. These reforms amounted to
nothing less than this complete liberty of study. You know that in
this country medical students have no liberty of study ; they are
obliged to attend lectures, to have heard at least two-thirds of the lect-

O

ures given, and if it is not certified by the beadle, who comes in to
every lecture and takes the names of all present, that they have been
present at two-thirds of the lectures, they are not allowed to enter for
the examination. This state of things also existed in the German uni
versities previous to this reformation. At that time, however, this was
completely done away with, and every student was allowed to obtain
his knowledge where and how he pleased. He was not obliged to
enter any university whatever, but he was obliged to pass an exami
nation, and to pass that examination publicly, an examination which
should so thoroughly test his knowledge that, after he had passed it
there could be no doubt whatever about his fitness to follow his pro
fession. Now let me recommend to your attention this most remark
able system of public examination. The extraordinary effect it had on
the University of Giessen was this, that, whereas formerly many stu
dents coming unprepared were rejected, since the introduction of pub
lic examinations few rejections have taken place, because the students
take great care to get up their subjects and to come so fully prepared
that, in the presence of tfceir countrymen, in the presence of any per
son who likes to enter the hall when the examination takes place, they
can show that they are. fit to follow their profession.

I have already, I see, passed the time allotted to me, and I shall
not detain you many more minutes. In the autumn of the year 1
Liebig left Giessen, having received a call to the University of Mil
nich, where the then King Maximilian was desirous of following 1
father, Ludwig, on another path of glory. You know that Ludwig
had made it his life-business to restore art in Germany and raise it to

5 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a high footing in Bavaria, and Maximilian now wished to do the same
thing for science in general, and he therefore endeavored to collect
from all parts of Germany the best men whom he could attract. One
of these was Liebig, the king having made him president of the Acad
emy, with the condition that he should undertake no laboratory teach
ing ; that he should deliver lectures only, and at the same time be
the Curator of the Botanical Gardens. In that position he remained
up to his death, devoting himself mainly to the public part of his
duties, which lie performed with grace, honor, and glory, and in the
laboratory which had been constructed for his own immediate wants
he only performed such analyses, partly himself, and partly by a num
ber of assistants, as were necessary to give him the data for the pub
lication of his several works.

At last, in the year 1873, on April 18th, he died, nearly seventy
years of age, and in full possession of his faculties, not having, as
other philosophers have had the pain of doing, experienced any dimi
nution of his mental powers.

CAROLINE LUCKETIA HEESCHEL.

BY ELIZA A. YOUMANS.

II.

WHATEVER may be thought of the intellectual differences be
tween men and women, the broad mental contrast between
Caroline Herschal and her brother Sir William Herschel is undeniable.
Intellectual activity and a love of knowledge for its own sake influ
enced his boyhood, characterized his manhood, and dominated his
whole life. He became an eminent astronomer because his passion for
physical inquiry, directed toward the constitution of the universe, mas
tered every other sentiment of his nature. But the mind of Caroline
Herschel was of another mould. She learned various things, from a
desire to please her friends and to earn her living; but there is no evi
dence that she ever studied anything from a love of knowledge. Her
whole life was inspired by purely personal feelings. In a former arti
cle we saw how submissively she delved for the family throughout her
youth, and left them full of concern about their daily comforts. It
was an all-absorbing love for her brother which led her to study as
tronomy, and at his death her devotion to science ended. Some peo
ple, perhaps, will admire her less on this account ; yet, while it dimin
ishes her claims as a philosopher, it certainly increases her claims as a
woman. The tendency of women to act from intense personal motives
is a fact of vital moment to the community, because the very existence
of the family depends upon it; and it is difficult to imagine any future

CAROLINE LUC RET I A HERSCHEL. 59

phase of society, of which the family is a factor, where engrossing
personal feeling will not continue to be a supreme womanly trait.

Resuming our history, we find that on the 1st of August, 1782, the
Herschels with their instruments and furniture arrived at Datchet, and
took possession of a large and neglected old house, with garden and
grounds overgrown with weeds. Having no female servant, Miss
Herschel was shown the shops by the gardener s wife, and her
practical sense was at once shocked at the prices of everything, from
coal to butcher s meat. But her brother w T as not disturbed by such
considerations. He had stables where he could grind mirrors, a roomy
laundry for a library, a large grass-plot for his instruments, and "he
gayly assured her that they could live on eggs and bacon, which
would cost nothing to speak of, now they were really in the country."
After a couple of months the younger brother went back to Bath to
resume his occupations in music ; and it was this separation which
awakened Caroline to a consciousness of what she was doing in giving
up the prospect of becoming independent in the musical profession.
But she reconciled herself to the situation by the thought that her
brother William could not do without her, and that she had not spirit
enough to throw herself upon the public without his protection. Soon
after Alexander s departure, William had to go away for a week or
ten days, and she was left alone. She thus describes her feelings in
entering upon her new work :

" In my brother s absence from home, I was, of course, left solely to amuse
myself with my own thoughts, which were anything but cheerful. I found I
was to be trained for an assistant astronomer, and, by way of encouragement, a
telescope adapted for sweeping, consisting of a tube with two glasses, such as
are commonly used in a finder, was given me. I was to sweep for comets,
and I see by my journal that I began August 22, 1782, to write down and de
scribe all remarkable appearances I saw in my sweeps, which were horizontal.
But it was not till the last two months of the same year that I felt the least en
couragement to spend the starlight nights on a grass-plot covered with dew or
hoar-frost, without a human being near enough to be within call ; for I knew
too little of the real heavens to be able to point out every object so as to find it
again without losing too much time by consulting the atlas. But all these
troubles were removed when I knew my brother to be at no great distance,
making observations with his various instruments on double stars, planets, etc.,
1 and I could have his assistance immediately when I found a nebula, or cluster
of stars, of which I intended to give a catalogue ; but, at the end of 1783, I had
only marked fourteen, when my sweeping was interrupted by being employed
to write down my brother s observations with the large twenty-foot. I had,
however, the comfort to see that my brother was satisfied with, my endeavors to
assist him when he wanted another person, either to run to the clocks, write
down a memorandum, fetch and carry instruments, or measure the ground with
poles, etc., of which something of the kind every moment would occur."

The summer months of 1783 were spent in getting the large twenty-
foot ready for the next winter. After some account of her brother s
many and incessant occupations, she says he also threw away some

60 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

trouble in the effort to teach her to remeasure double stars with the
micrometers used in former measurements, and a small twenty-foot
was given her for the purpose. She had also to use a borrowed tran
sit-instrument to find their places, but after many failures it was seen
that the instrument was as much in fault as herself. She thus con
tinues her account of her experiences :

"July 8th (1783) I began to use the Newtonian small sweeper, but it could
hardly be expected that I should meet with any comets in the part of the heavens
where I swept, for I generally chose my situation by the side of my brother s
instrument, that I might be ready to run to the clock or write down memoran
dums. In the beginning of December I became entirely attached to the writing-
desk, and had seldom an opportunity after that time of using my newly-acquired
instrument. My brother began his series of sweeps when the instrument was
yet in a very unfinished state, and my feelings were not very comfortable when
every moment I was alarmed by a crack or fall, knowing him to be elevated
fifteen feet or more on a temporary cross-beam instead of a safe gallery. The
ladders had not even their braces at the bottom ; and one night, in a very high
wind, he had hardly touched the ground before the whole apparatus came down.
Some laboring-men were called up to help in extricating the mirror, which was
fortunately uninjured; but much work was cut out for carpenters next day.
That my fears of danger and accidents were not wholly imaginary, I had an un
lucky proof on the night of the 31st of December. The evening had been cloudy,
but about ten o clock a few stars became visible, and in the greatest hurry all
was got ready for observing. My brother, at the front of the telescope, directed
me to make some alteration in the lateral motion, which was done by machinery,
on which the point of support of the tube and mirror rested. At each end of the
machine or trough was an iron hook, such as butchers use for hanging their joints
upon, and, having to run in the dark on ground covered a foot deep with melt
ing snow, I fell on one of these hooks, which entered my right leg above the
knee. My brother s call, Make haste! I could only answer by a pitiful cry,
I am hooked! He and the workmen were instantly with me, but they could
not lift me without leaving nearly two ounces of my flesh behind. The work
man s wife was called, but was afraid to do anything, and I was obliged to be
my own surgeon by applying aquabusade and tying a kerchief about it for some
days, till Dr. Lind, hearing of ray accident, brought me ointment and lint, and
told me how to use them. At the end of six weeks I began to have some fears
about my poor limb, and asked again for Dr. Lind s opinion ; he said if a soldier
had met with such a hurt he would have been entitled to six weeks nursing in
a hospital. I had, however, the comfort to know that my brother was no loser
through this accident, for the remainder of the night was cloudy, and several
nights afterward afforded only a few short intervals favorable for sweeping, and,
until the 16th of January, there was no necessity for my exposing myself for a
whole night to the severity of the season. I could give a pretty long list of ac
cidents which were near proving fatal to my brother as well as myself."

Her account of the years 1784 and 1785 is varied by reminiscences
of the trouble her brother had in trying to live and pursue his as
tronomical observations on 200 a year. The book contains many
incidental allusions to royal patronage that are not flattering; but,
notwithstanding the silence of her diary upon so many matters of real

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 61

consequence, she always chronicles the attentions bestowed upon her
brother and herself by kings and nobles. Most of her brother s time
was spent in making and selling telescopes for other observers, in
stead of finishing a thirty or forty foot instrument for his own use,
upon which his heart was set. The king ordered many seven-foot and
four ten-foot telescopes, one of which was to be sent as a present to
the observatory at Gottingen. Meantime, through the influence of Sir
Joseph Banks, 2,000 had been granted to Herschel, to enable him
to make an instrument for himself. After living in Datchet four years,
they moved to Slough, in April, 1786, and it was here that Herschel
put up his famous telescope, and fixed his residence for the rest of
his life.

SIR WILLIAM HERSCHEL S FORTY-FOOT TELESCOPE AT SLOUGH.

In July of this year he went to Germany to deliver the ten-foot
telescope from the king, leaving Caroline in charge of matters , at 1
The stand for the forty-foot telescope was finished, and he left a smit
at work on the tube. The mirror was also pretty far advanced,
in- this absence of her brother Miss Herschel discovered her f

62 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

comet. Her diary and letters belonging to this period are very in
teresting. Her brother left on the 3d, and on that day she cleaned
and put the polishing-room in order, made the gardener clear the
work- yard, and mend the fences. " 5th. Spent the morning in needle
work . . . . " " 6th. Put the philosophical letters in order, and the
collection of each year in a separate corner . . . . " " 12th. Put
paper in press for a register . . . . " " 18th. Spent the day in ruling
paper for the register, except that at breakfast I cut out ruffles for
shirts . . . . " " <29th. I paid the smith . . . . "

It was on the 1st of August that she first saw the comet. We
give her diary at this time in full :

"August 1st. I have counted 100 nebulae to-day ; and this evening I saw
an object which, I believe, to-morrow night will prove to be a comet.

U 2d. To-day I calculated 150 nebulas. I fear it will not be clear to-night.
It has been raining throughout the whole day, but seems now to clear up a little.
One o clock. The object of last night is a comet.

" 3d. I did not go to rest till I had wrote to Dr. Blagden and Mr. Aubert,
to announce the comet."

In the letter to Dr. Blagden she says :

"The employment of writing down the observations when my brother uses
the twenty-foot reflector does not often allow me time to look at the heavens ;
but, as he is now on a visit to Germany, I have taken the opportunity to sweep in
the neighborhood of the sun in search of comets; and last night, the 1st of
August, about ten o clock, I found an object very much resembling in color and
brightness the 27 nebulae of the Connoissance des Temps, with the difference,
however, of being round. I suspected it to be a comet; but, a haziness coming
on, it was not possible to satisfy myself as to its motion till this evening."

After describing the object and its position, she concludes:

"You will do me the favor of communicating these observations to my
brother s astronomical friends."

Dr. Blagden replied on August 5th that no one but herself had yet
seen the comet, but that he had spread the news of her discovery in
England, France, and Germany. August 7th Mr. Aubert wrote to
her that he did not find the comet till the 5th on account of cloudy
weather. He says :

"I wish you joy most sincerely on the discovery. I am more pleased than
you can well conceive that you have made it, and I think I see your wonderfully
clever and wonderfully amiable brother, upon the news of it, shed a tear of joy.
You have immortalized your name, and you deserve such a reward for your
assiduity in the business of astronomy, and for your love for so celebrated and
deserving a brother."

We give place to the friendly expressions of these gentlemen, and
others that will follow, to show that Miss Herschel was not hindered
in her scientific career by the jealousy or antagonism of male rivals,

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 63

of which ambitious women complain so much in these degenerate days.
She continues the diary of her labors :

" 4th. I wrote to Hanover ; booked my observations ; made accounts. The
night is cloudy.

" 5th. Calculated nebulae all day. The night was tolerably fine, and I saw
the comet.

" Qth. I booked my observations of last night. Eeceived a letter from Dr.
Blagden in the morning, and in the evening Sir J. Banks, Lord Palmerston, and
Dr. Blagden, came and saw the comet. The evening was very fine.

"7th and 8th. Booked my observations. On the 8th the evening was
cloudy.

" 9th. I calculated 100 nebula.

" 10th. Calculated 100 nebulaa. The smith borrowed a guinea.

" llth. I completed, to-day, the catalogue of the first thousand.

"13A. Prof. Kratzensteine, from Copenhagen, was here to-day. In the
evening I saw the comet, and swept.

" l-ith. I calculated 140 nebulae to-day, which brought me up to the last-
discovered nebulae, and therefore the work is finished."

Miss Herschel says it is impossible for her to give an account of
all that passed around her in the following two years, for they were
spent in a perfect chaos of business.

But in 1788, after he was fifty years old, her brother married a
wealthy widow, of about the same age as Miss Herschel. It is said
by the editor that the wife was very amiable and gentle, and that the
jointure she brought enabled her husband to pursue his scientific ca
reer without anxiety about expenses. But this was evidently not so.
We must infer from the statements of Miss Herschel that this wealth,
like royal patronage, was not applied to relieve Sir William from
drudgery ; for, to the end of her brother s life, she complains that,
instead of pursuing original investigations, he had to spend an enor
mous amount of time and labor making and selling telescopes ; and
that the fatigue and exhaustion from polishing mirrors told seriously
upon his health. In 1805, more than a dozen years after his marriage,
we .hear of his finishing an instrument for the King of Spain, and at
about the same time another for the Prince of Canino. She further
says that he was miserably stinted for room for his instruments, and
continually bemoans the embarrassments and hinderances which de
feated his plans of study, and asserts that, during the last years of his
life, his spirits were depressed and his temper soured by these cir
cumstances.

In her diary, all that Miss Herschel says of her brother s marriage
is this :

" It may easily be supposed that I must have been fully employed (besides
minding the heavens) to prepare everything as well as I could against the time
I was to give up the place of housekeeper on the 8th of May."

When, in after-years, she was preparing the materials for her biog-

64 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

raphy, which were to be sent to Sir John Herschel, the son of this new
sister-in-law, she destroyed all her diary and records for the ten years
immediately succeeding her brother s marriage. Her biographer and
relative alludes to her experiences at this time in the following lan
guage :

"With saddened heart but unflagging determination she continued to work
for her brother, but saw his domestic happiness pass into other keeping. It is
not to be supposed, however, that a nature so strong and a heart so affectionate
should accept the new state of things without much and bitter suffering. To
resign the supreme place by her brother s side, which she had filled for sixteen
years with such hearty devotion, could not be otherwise than painful in any
case ; but how much more so in this, where equal devotion to the same pursuit
must have made identity of interest and purpose as complete as it is rare ! One
who could both feel and express herself so strongly was not likely to fall into
her new place without some outward expression of what it cost her tradition
confirms the assumption and it is easy to understand how this long, significant
silence is due to the light of later wisdom and calmer judgment which counseled
the destruction of all record of what was likely to be painful to survivors."

In reference to Herschel s marriage, a writer in the London Ex
aminer says, "It is impossible to regret or censure the step which
gave existence to his yet more remarkable son ; " but this is a sin
gular and tardy justification. In marrying, he did what it was highly
probable he would do ; and, remembering this, he should not have
allowed his sister to live so entirely for him. It is not to be supposed,
however, that he foresaw the unpleasant consequences that fell upon
her. When the temptation to marry came, he no doubt stupidly fan
cied that in enriching his own life by this new relation he should add
to her happiness by bringing her a sister ; but, if he had studied the
ways of men and women as he studied the heavens, he might have
saved himself from such a delusion.

The work she did during the next ten years affords abundant
evidence of the heroism with which Miss Herschel met her fate.
Besides discovering seven more comets, she prepared " A Catalogue
of 860 Stars observed by Flamstead, but not included in the British
Catalogue," and "A General Index of Reference to Every Observa
tion of Every Star in the above-mentioned British Catalogue," both
of which works were published by the Royal Society in 1798. She
also spent much time upon another work which was not finished for
many years. It was " The Reduction and Arrangement in the Form
of a Catalogue, in Zones, of all the Star-Clusters and Nebulae observed
by Sir W. Herschel in his Sweeps." For this she received the gold
medal of the Royal Astronomical Society in 1828, and it was pro
nounced by Sir David Brewster " a work of immense labor."

Some account of her discoveries was found in a packet wrapped in
coarse paper, and labeled " This is what I call the bills and receipts
of my comets." The separate parcels of this bundle were marked

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 65

" First Comet," " Second Comet," etc. She announced the discovery
of her second comet to Dr. Maskelyne, the royal astronomer, in the
following letter, with a postscript by her brother :

" DEAE SIE : Last night, December 21st, at 7 h 45 , I discovered a comet, a
little more than one degree south, preceding /3 Lyrse. This morning, between
five and six, I saw it again, when it appeared to have moved about a quarter of
a degree toward 6 of the same constellation. I beg the favor of you to take it
under your protection.

"Mrs. Herschel and my brothers join with me in compliments to Mrs. Mas
kelyne and yourself, and I have the honor to remain,

" Dear sir, your most obliged, humble servant,

" CAEOLINE HEBSCHEL.
" SLOTJGH, December 22, 1788."

" P. S. The comet precedes (3 Lyra3 7 5" in time, and is in the parallel of the
small star (j3 being double). See fifth class, third star, of my catalogue.

" WILLIAM HEBSCHEL."

Her brother announced her discovery to Sir J. Banks and Sir H.
Englefield, and from these gentlemen she received the most cordial
congratulations. Two years later, on January 7, 1790, the third comet
was discovered, and on the 17th of April, the same year, when her
brother was absent, she announced her fourth comet to Sir Joseph
Banks in the following words :

u April 19th.

" SIE: I am very unwilling to trouble you with incomplete observations, and
for that reason did not acquaint you yesterday with the discovery of a comet.
I wrote an account of it to Dr. Maskelyne and Mr. Aubert, in hopes that one of
them woujd furnish me with the means of pointing it out in a proper manner.
But as several days may pass before my letters are answered, or my brother re
turns, I would not be thought neglectful, and if you think the following descrip
tion sufficient, and that more of my brother s astronomical friends should be
made acquainted with it, I should be very happy if you would be so kind as to
do it for the sake of astronomy."

Then follows an account of the comet. The letter, written on the
day previous, to Mr. Aubert, we give entire :

" SLOUGH, April 18, 1790.

"DEAE SIE: I am almost ashamed to write you, because I never think of
doing so but when I am in distress. I found, last night, at 16" 24 , sidereal
time, a comet, and do not know what to do with it, for my new sweeper is not
half finished; and, besides, I broke the handle of the perpendicular motion .in
my brother s absence (who is on a little tour in Yorkshire). He furnished me to
that instrument a rhomboides, but the wires are too thin, and I have no means
for illuminating them. All my hopes were that I should find nothing to make
me feel the want of these things in his absence; but, as it happens, here u
object in a place where there is no nebula, or anything which could 1,
comet, and I would be much obliged to you, sir, if you would look at t
where the annexed eye-draft will direct you to. My brother has swept i
part of the heavens, and has many nebula there, but none which I raw
to see with my instrument. I will not write to Sir J. Banks or Dr. Maskelyne,

VOL. IX. 5

66 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

or anybody, till you, sir, have seen it ; but if you could, without much trouble,
give my best respects, and that part of this letter which points out the place of
the comet, to Mr. Wollaston, you would make me very happy.

"I am, dear sir, etc., etc., 0. H."

From all these gentlemen her labors and discoveries received the
most cordial recognition. In his reply, Sir J. Banks said : " I shall
take care to make our astronomical friends acquainted with the obli
gations they are under to your diligence." Mr. Aubert closes his let
ter with the assurance of the pleasure he felt at her success, and
with the offer of any instrument she might wish to use; while Dr.
Maskelyne addressed her as his " worthy sister in astronomy."

The fifth comet was discovered December 15, 1791, and all that
she says about it is, " My brother wrote an account of it to Sir J. Banks,
Dr. Maskelyne, and several other gentlemen." The sixth, found Oc
tober 8th, is briefly recognized ; and the seventh, discovered Novem
ber 7, 1795, is known as Encke s comet, because he determined its
periodicity. It was discovered by four different observers before its
identity was recognized. Miss Herschel was its second discoverer in
order of time. Her eighth and last comet was discovered August 6,
1797.

We learn from her diary that in October of this year her home
with her brother at Slough was broken up, and she went to live in
solitude in lodgings, arid this mode of life she continued for twenty-
five years, till her brother s death, when she left England to join her
relations in Hanover. Why she left her brother s house she does not
explain, nor is it necessary. In referring to her departure she only
says : " My telescopes on the roof, to which I was to have occasional
access, as ^also the room with the sweeping and observing apparatus,
remained in their former order, where I most days spent some hours in
preparing work to go on with at my lodgings." In a letter to Dr.
Maskelyne, written in September, 1798, she says that, during the past
year, she has not thought herself " well or in spirits enough to vent
ure from home." She spent her first lonely winter in getting ready
for the press some of her own astronomical work.

The account of her life from 1798 until her brother s death, in
1822, occupies about fifty pages of the volume,, and consists mostly of
extracts from her diary. It is not a record of discoveries or personal
triumphs, but of unceasing labor for her brother, knowing no respite
in sickness or in health, by night or by day, in winter or in summer,
amid hardships and discouragements that never daunted her affection
ate nature. During her first year in lodgings, she complains of being
harassed by the loss of time in going backward and forward, and by
not having immediate access to books and papers ; and these troubles,
with varying features, pursued her to the end of her brother s life.
The first three or four years she changed her lodgings often, but in
1301 -she settled in HJpton, where she remained till 1810, at which time

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 67

she took possession of a cottage in Slough, belonging to her brother,
and, although mention is made in her diary of moving again in 1814,
yet she continued to live in Slough.

Notwithstanding all her prudence about paining relations, the
multiplied repetition in her diary of such entries as the following is
painfully suggestive :

" March 5th. Went to make some stay with my brothers at Slough, Mrs.
Herschel being in town.

" With. All returned, and I went with my work to Upton again.

" September 24^. Went to work with my brother at Slough.

" October 1st. Mrs. Herschel and niece returned. I went back to Upton.

" August 1st. I left Upton for Slough. My brother went with Mrs. Herschel
and Miss Baldwin on an excursion. I distracted my thoughts by undertaking an
amazing deal of work.

"September Sth. My brother and family returned, and I went with my
works to Upton.

" May Zd. I left Upton for Slough to work with my brother ; Mrs. Herschel
being in town till June 18th.

"November 3d. I came home to Upton (Mrs. Herschel returned from Brigh
ton), but went most days to assist my brother in the polishing-room or library,
and, from the 10th of December to the 22d, was entirely at Slough, Mrs. Her
schel being away.

"January. I had a cough all the month; the communication between
Slough and Upton very troublesome to me.

"March 9th. Went to Slough to work with my brother; his family from
home.

" May llth. Went to be with my brother; Mrs. Herschel went to town
for a month.

" June 12,th. Mrs. Herschel returned from town, and I went home."

It is pleasant to find, however, that the asperities of this period
of her life were so much softened by time and distance that in 1829,
when living in Hanover, she was able to write to her sister-in-law,
confidentially as to " a dear sister, for as such I now know you."

The diary closes in 1822, with an account of her brother s death,
and her departure from England. We quote the following charac
teristic passage relating to this period. She had come as usual to
spend the morning with her brother :

"August 15th. I hastened to the spot where I was wont to find him, with
the newspaper which I was to read to him. But instead I found Mrs. Morson,
Miss Baldwin, and Mr. Bulman, from Leeds, the grandson of my brother s earli
est acquaintance in this country. I was informed my brother had been obliged
to return to his room, whither I flew immediately. Lady Herschel and the
housekeeper were with him, administering everything which could be thought
of for supporting him. I found him much irritated at not being able to grant
Mr. Bulman s request for some token of remembrance for his father. As soon
as he saw me, I was sent to the library to fetch one of his last papers, and a
plate of the forty-foot telescope. But, for the universe, I could not have looked
twice at what I had snatched from the shelf, and when he faintly asked if the

68 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

breaking up of the milky-way was in it, I said Yes, and he looked content. I
cannot help remembering this circumstance : it was the last time I was sent to
the library on such an occasion."

Her brother William died on the 25th of August, and in the fol
lowing October she settled in Hanover with her brother Dietrich.

When her brother died she was herself in feeble health, and ex
pected soon to follow him to the grave, and it suited her feelings to
go back to Hanover to die. Besides, she says :

" My whole life almost has passed away in the delusion that, next to rny el
dest brother, none but Dietrich was capable of giving me advice where to leave
my few relics, consisting of a, few books and my sweeper. And for the last
twenty years I kept to the resolution of never opening my lips to my dear
brother William about worldly or serious concerns, let me be ever so much at a
loss for knowing right from wrong. And so it happened that, at a time when I
was stupefied by grief at seeing the death of my dear brother, I gave myself
with all I was worth (500 of bank-stock) to my brother Dietrich and his
family, and, from that time till the death of Dietrich, I found great difficulty to
remain mistress of my own actions and opinions. In respect to the latter we
never could agree."

Her brother William, however, left her a legacy of 100 a year,
and during the rest of her life her chief study was how to spend this
sum without making herself ridiculous.

As was to be expected, after fifty years absence she found Han
over changed in everything, and little to her taste, and she was also
grievously disappointed in the generation of relatives with whom she
lived, and of whom she says :

" They have never been of the least use to me, and for all the good I have
lavished on them they never came to look after me, but when they had some
design upon me."

In speaking of her return to Hanover, her biographer writes thus :

"Who can think of her at the age of seventy-two, heart-broken and deso
late, going back to the home of her youth to find consolation without a pang
of pity ? She little guessed how much her habits had changed in the different
world where she had lived for fifty years. She had the bitterness to find her
self alone with her great sorrow."

We have no space to give to this part of her life, although it occu
pies more than half of the volume, to which we must refer our readers.
It is made up chiefly of her correspondence, and her letters, from their
unconscious self-portraiture, are quite as interesting as her "Diary"
or her "Recollections." It is full of interest also on account of the
details it gives concerning the life of Sir William Herschel, of whom
no reliable biography has yet appeared.

She died peacefully in 1848, and her funeral was held in the same
garrison-church where she was christened and confirmed. According
to a request made to her favorite niece, a lock of her brother s hair,

AWARDS AT THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION. 69

and an almost obliterated almanac, that had been used by her father
were placed with her in her coffin. The same niece, in a letter written
at this time to her cousin, Sir John Herschel, says :

"I felt almost a sense of joyful relief at the death of my aunt, iu the thought
that now the unquiet heart was at rest. All that she had of love to give was
concentrated on her beloved brother. . . . She looked upon progress in science
as so touch detraction from her brother s fame, and even your investigations
would have become a source of estrangement had she been with you."

AWARDS AT THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION.

KEPORT OF HON. N. M. BECKWITH, COMMISSIONER FROM NEW YORK, ON
THE SELECTION AND APPOINTMENT OF JUDGES.

AT a regular meeting of the Executive Committee of the United
States Centennial Commission, held at Philadelphia, October
13, 1875, Mr. Beckwith, Commissioner from New York (United
States Commissioner-General at the International Exhibition at Paris,
1867), presented the following report upon the selection and appoint
ment of judges. It was carefully considered and unanimously ap
proved :

HON. D. J. MOEEELL, Chairman of the Executive Committee.

SIR : In compliance with the request of the Executive Committee, I beg leave
to present for consideration the following suggestions relating to the selection
and appointment of judges, in conformity with the method of awards decreed
by the Centennial Commission.

This method, in many respects, differs radically from the systems hitherto
tried in International Exhibitions, and, although the subject is familiar to you, I
shall be pardoned, I hope, for briefly indicating the broad differences.

Awards have heretofore been generally made by an International Jury of
about six hundred members.

The apportionment of jurors to countries has been tried on various bases,
but was usually made on the basis of the relative space occupied by the products
of each country respectively, in the Exhibition.

The Great Jury was divided into numerous small juries, who examined the
products and prepared lists of the names of persons whom they proposed for
awards, and the proposals thus made were confirmed or rejected by higher
juries.

The awards consisted chiefly of medals of differents values, gold, silver, i-tr.

This system brought together a numerous and incongruous assembly, includ
ing unavoidably many individuals unqualified for the work.

The basis of representation was apparently fair, but its results were delusive.

A few countries nearest the Exhibition, whose products could be collected
and exposed at the smallest proportional expense, occupied large spaces; the
numerous remote countries filled smaller spaces.

The number of jurors allotted to the smaller spaces, when distributed, left

7 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them without jurors on most classes, and in the remainder with only a minority
which, in voting on awards, had no weight, and the awards were thus in effect
decreed by the few contiguous countries whose products filled the largest spaces.
Written reports on the products were not usually made by juries, and, if made,
were not generally published; consequently no person outside of the jury was
informed on what ground awards were made.

The medals, when distributed, were as silent as the verdicts ; moral respon
sibility for the decisions attached to no one, and the awards thus made conveyed
as little useful information, and carried as little weight, as anonymous work
usually carries.

Medals, at best, are enigmas. They express nothing exactly and definitely
relative to the products exhibited ; their allegorical designs doubtless have a
meaning in the mind of the artist who makes them, but allegorical designs are
primitive and feeble language, and the medal of to-day is no more than its pred
ecessor, a schoolboy token verdicts upon products determined by majority
votes of juries in which the producing countries are often represented by useless
minorities awards based upon anonymous reports, or reports never published,
and final decisions announced and recorded in the vague and mystic language
of medals, have not proved satisfactory to producers nor to the public. As re
gards the diffusion of reliable and useful information, International Exhibitions
have not come fully up to expectations and to the promise implied in the great
labor and great expenses which they involved; and the wide-spread dissatisfac
tion which has uniformly followed the close of jury-work affords in itself strong
evidence that the system is not well adapted to the purposes of International
Exhibitions.

The method of awards adopted by the Centennial Commission differs from
preceding systems. It dispenses with the International Jury, and substitutes a
body of two hundred judges, one-half foreign, chosen individually for their
high qualifications.

It dispenses, also, with the system of awards by graduated medals, and re
quires of the judges written reports on the inherent and comparative merits of
each product thought worthy of an award, setting forth the properties and
qualities, presenting the considerations forming the ground of the award, and
avouching each report by the signature of its author.

The professional judgment and moral responsibility of the judges being thus
involved, assure the integrity of their reports. As awards to exhibitors, such
reports will be more valuable than medals, in proportion to the greater amount
of reliable information which they convey to the public. Their collected repub-
lication, as hand-books, will form valuable guides for all classes to the most ad
vanced products of every country, and, last and least, the sales of them can
hardly fail to return to the Commission a good portion of their cost.

The success of this method obviously depends on the judicious selection of
the judges, and to this point I desire to call particular attention.

In this connection it may be remarked that the best judges of products are
not usually found among their producers, but among their consumers.

To select a wine, for example, of particular character, one would not apply
to wine-growers, but to dealers and consumers. On the merits of an engine,
you would prefer the opinion of the engineer who uses it, to that of the engi
neer who invented or made it. The sugars and coffees of Brazil, Cuba, Java,
etc., are best judged in the great markets of consumption. In brief, the food-
products of the world find their most accurate appreciations, as regards their
inherent qualities and comparative merits, in the great consuming markets,

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 7 i

where similar products from all regions are gathered, and the practical judgment
of the using and consuming public is pronounced, from which there is no appeal.

The principle in this applies not only to raw products, but in a general sense
to manufactures and to industrial products of all kinds in general use.

In this view of the subject, the method of awards adopted by the Centennial
Commission presents the great advantage that it is judicial rather than repre
sentative, and the Commission is perfectly free to select judges from the best
sources, regardless of localities.

The men to seek for are those who, by their ability, education, character,
and experience, are fittest for the work, and they will be less difficult to find
than to obtain, being generally employed, and frequently connected with large
industries, important works, and the higher institutions to which their superior
qualifications have led them.

Freedom to choose our judges from the best sources cannot fail to produce
good results if the selection be made upon proper investigation, with suitable
care and without favor.

The announcement of this method of awards has been received ia foreign
countries, as far as heard from, with expressions of distinct approbation, and
there can be no doubt that they will select and bring to us their hundred
judges, who will be distinguished by their reliable and solid qualifications, and
it is incumbent on us to select a body of men of character, able and expert in
their respective callings, and equal in attainments and experience to our foreign
cooperatives, with whom our own will be intimately associated.

I need hardly add that the useful results and success of our Exhibition and
the public satisfaction which it should produce, as well as the reputation of this
Commission, as practical and sensible men, depend largely on the selection of
our judges, and finally upon their organization and work. . . .

Kespectfully submitted, N. M. BKCKWITH.

NEW YOBK, October 9, 18T5.

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY.

BY R. RIOKDAN.

THE improvements in telegraphy, about which the public has lately
been learning a good deal through the newspapers, really con
stitute a remarkable element of progress, and are deserving of sepa
rate consideration. , With the fire-alarm, domestic, and district
graphs in our cities, the reduced rates and increased efficiency of the
$reat lines and the further improvements promised us, it does not
seem too much to expect that the telegraph will soon rival the pos
office and the press as a bearer and diffuser of intelligence.

The failure of the English postal telegraph to fulfill the sangu
prophecies of its advocates will hardly be held to militate again
this view when it shall be shown what the nature of these improve
ments is. Prof. Jevons, in a late number of the Fortnightly Review,
has indicated the causes of this failure. It was taken for grants
the promoters of the scheme, he asserts, that, as in the case

72 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Post-office, a vast increase of business might be done with but little
more expense. Accordingly, to gain the increased business they re
duced the rates one-half, and succeeded but not in a pecuniary sense.
Prof. Jevons ascribes this disappointing result to the great cost of
erecting and maintaining the lines ; to their small carrying capacity
when compared with that of a railroad-train ; and to the number of
hands and heads which each telegraphic message has to pass through
before reaching its destination, and whicji must all be paid. But the
progress of the last five years, made principally in this country, has
demonstrated that these difficulties are not insuperable.

In order of time, the first important step toward this end was the
Duplex Telegraph of Mr. Joseph Stearns, of Boston, Massachusetts. Its
object is to allow of two operators using the same wire to send mes
sages in opposite directions simultaneously. To persons having only
a general acquaintance with the ordinary working of the telegraph,
this at first seemed impossible ; and, when it was accomplished, it was
held by many some scientific men among the number to furnish
an indubitable proof of the theory that the electric waves, or currents,
or whatever they might be held to be, necessarily passed each other
in contrary directions over the wire. That they do not will be evident
from the subjoined explanation.

It must be remembered that the galvanic battery gives birth to a
force which returns in a circuit to where it was generated, and accel
erates the liberation of more force, being like a steam-engine em
ployed partly in fanning its own fire. This circuit can be performed
much more easily through great lengths of some substances, such as
the earth and metals, than through very small spaces of others, as the
air and the dilute acid of the battery. Galvanic electricity is> there
fore, strictly confined in a sort of mill-round ; or it may best, for our
present purposes, be represented by water flowing through such a
system of water-courses as is shown in the annexed cut. We will

FIG. 1.

suppose them to include a reservoir and a secondary circuit at each
end. Let the reservoirs A and B have water pumped into them by
force-pumps, and distributed by them to both the main and secondary
circuits, in equal quantities and in the direction of the arrows, so as
to maintain the water-wheels X and W in the same positions. The
highest points in the system must be supposed to be at the front of the
reservoirs, and the lowest at the back of them.

If an additional volume of water come from A, being equally divided

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 7?

on each side of TFJ it will not move that wheel, but it will move the
wheel X by destroying the balance which previously existed there.
But, if a similar extra volume be at the same time se$t from B, the
pressure in that part of the circuit between TFand X will overcome
the opposing forces at each of the points, and both wheels will be
worked, each virtually by the distant reservoir and not by its own.

If we substitute galvanic batteries for the reservoirs, wires for the
water-courses, and electricity for the water, this gives us the princi
ple of the duplex telegraph, and it is obvious that no currents passing
one another in contrary directions are necessary to it. It will be well to
keep this in mind when we come to describe the quadruplex system.

Following the duplex, the American Automatic system may be
said to have been perfected in 1873. The great rapidity with which
messages are transmitted and recorded by it is its principal advan
tage, but it has others as requiring a smaller force of operators and
less specially skilled. The usual work of a Morse operator is acknowl
edged to be about 1,500 words an hour, and European operators do
not average half as much ; but, by the automatic method, to receive
and print double that number of words per minute is an ordinary feat,
and as many as 7,000 words fourteen pages of this magazine have
been legibly recorded in that time. As every word contains, on an
average, five letters, and as each letter is represented by a varying

Earth

FIG. 2,-MoKSB KEY AXD KEGISTER. (From Deschanel.)

number of dots and dashes, each formed by a separate discharge, the
circuit, it is calculated, must be "closed" and "broken," and the chen
icals in the battery must cease and recommence their action 60,00
times per minute, in the ordinary working of the automatic syst

74 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

In every form of electric telegraph the signals are given by an in
termittent flow of electricity. In the Morse system a " key " is used
which, in its normal position, " breaks " the circuit, but when depressed
by the finger of the operator allows the electricity to pass through it
on its mission. Arrived at the distant station, it is converted, by
means of an electro-magnet, into mechanical motion, which is utilized
either to produce indentations in a moving slip of paper by means of
a style, or, more commonly, to give a series of taps, which the operator
understands, by an instrument called a " sounder."

In the automatic system the means employed are altogether dif
ferent. The message is, first of all, prepared by punching holes in a
narrow ribbon of paper. These perforations are so grouped as to
represent the dots and dashes of the telegraphic alphabet, and by
the punching-machine, which is very complicated, all that are required
to form a letter are punched at one stroke. In comparing the two sys
tems this must not be lost sight of, as the time taken in punching
must, of course, be added to the time of transmission. The machine,
however, does its work more quickly than the Morse operator with
his key, and, the time occupied in transmitting being so vastly less,
the " automatic " may claim to have rendered old-fashioned telegra
phy comparatively slow.

After the perforated slip of paper has been prepared, it is taken to
the operator s table, where it is made to move forward rapidly be
tween a metallic drum and a needle carrying two small steel wheels
which rest upon it. Drum and wheels form part of the circuit, which
is broken by the non-conducting paper interposed and closed wher.
the holes permit of the wheels and the metallic cylinder beneath
coming into contact. At the receiving-station a very similar arrange
ment does duty as a register. The paper slip is there saturated with
a certain chemical solution which renders its w T hole substance a good
conductor, and, instead of the wheels, there is an iron style or " pen."
When electricity arrives over the line, it decomposes the moisture of
the paper into oxygen and hydrogen, and oxidizes or rusts the pen.

D o

O O

FIG. 3.

A little of this oxide is rubbed off by the quickly-moving paper, and
enters into combination with the chemical still contained in it, pro
ducing a stain in the form of a dot or dash which corresponds with
the holes punched in the paper at the sending-station. Where three
holes come together, both wheels form a contact, and a dash is pro
duced, because the second wheel touches the cylinder while the first
passes over the paper between the upper holes.

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 75

The germ of the automatic system, as we have described it, was
contained in the " Chemical Telegraph " invented by Alexander Bain,
a Scotchman, in 1846. Bain was the first to use the perforated paper
to transmit and the chemically-prepared paper to receive the message.
But his invention, from a practical point of view, bears about the
same relation to the American system which the steam-engine as
known to the ancients does to that of James Watt. Bain s system,
improved by the late Sir Charles Wheatstone and known as Wheat-
stone s automatic system, is employed to a limited extent in Great
Britain ; but, thus improved, its speed does not exceed 60 to 10o
words a minute. It is therefore proper to regard the American Au
tomatic Telegraph as a distinct American invention. In its present
form, we owe it to Mr. Thomas A. Edison, of Newark, New Jersey.

The accompanying cut (Fig. 4) illustrates the results of attempting

oo o

FIG. 4.

high speed on the Bain telegraph. Instead of recording themselves
by decided dots and dashe.s, the electric discharges leave indistinct
and elongated traces, which, when the speed amounts to 300 words
or over, run into one another and make a continuous line. This effect
is due to the property which all electrified bodies have of inducing
electricity in neighboring bodies. The earth, reacting on the line wire
suspended above it, induces in it what is called an extra current, both
on closing and breaking the circuit. On first closing the circuit the
extra current runs in the contrary direction to the primary, and re
tards and weakens its action, so that, if suffered to record itself
would do so by a mark like this : ~ the long after-part

being caused partly by the accumulated electricity and partly fc
second extra current which is in the same direction with the pn
one.

6 A

FIG. 5.

By Mr. Edison s plan the evil is made to cure itself. He ..mplj
interposes another wire with a coil, shown at A
This divides the current, one part of which u again subdivided

76 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

reaching the earth, and a moiety of it ascending the ground-line at
D counteracts the first weak installment of the other. Then, as each
turn of the coil, 6 y , acts the part of the earth on the turn next it, the
whole sets up another powerful extra current, which at first forces
the full strength of the main current through the recording instru
ment, and ultimately counteracts the accumulated electricity and the
second extra current due to the earth. In practice, several such lines
are used, and magnets, which are preferable, instead of coils. This
occasions a great loss of electricity, but the sensitiveness of the re
ceiving apparatus is such that less than one-fourth of the total strength
of the current is sufficient to give a good record.

The chemical used by Bain in his sensitized paper was ferrocyanide
of potassium, which, with the oxide from the iron pen and an extra
equivalent of oxygen, forms Prussian blue. The oxygen of the air, it
has been found, protracts this action, and thus arises another source
of confusion, which is not affected by the device just described. A pref
erable combination, requiring only the protoxide of iron, which is
formed immediately by the electricity, is used in the American system.

One of the most curious of the recent discoveries respecting the
chemical action of electricity is that of its usefulness, under certain
circumstances, as a lubricator. During Mr. Edison s experiments on
the automatic telegraph he perceived that, when using a paper soaked
in a certain solution, the pen was apt to slip whenever a discharge
occurred. This effect was found to be so marked that a person draw
ing a strip of metal along the paper leaning rather heavily on it
finds his hand obliged to move in a succession of jerks when signals
are sent by a current powerful enough to overcome the resistance of
his body. On this principle, Mr. Edison has constructed a little in
strument in which a style is kept pressed against the paper by springs
so as to make a continuous indentation, except when the current is
passing. Its record is, therefore, the reverse of that of a Morse regis
ter ; but the " electromotograph," as it is called, differs also from the
" Morse " in being the most sensitive recording instrument known.

Still another of Mr. Edison s inventions is the quadruplex telegraph,
the principal aim of which is, not to augment the speed of signaling,
but, like the duplex, to allow of several persons using the same wire
at one time. In fact, the arrangement may be used as a duplex tele
graph, if required, so that the wire is by it made susceptible of either
double or quadruple employ.

The instruments used are modifications of those of the Morse sys
tem. The " key " has already been shown in Fig. 2, and the changes
made to adapt it to the uses of the quadruplex telegraph may be un
derstood from Fig. 5. The essential part of the receiving instrument
is an electro-magnet, which is shown in Fig. 2, and consists of a bent
bar of soft iron, surrounded at each end by a coil of wire connected
with the wire of the line. The current, passing through these coils,

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 77

communicates to the iron core magnetic properties, and enables it to
attract another piece of iron or steel called its armature ; but, when
the current ceases, the magnetism ceases also, and a spring too weak
to neutralize it draws back the armature. It is shown in section at
3fj in Fig. 6. When the armature and the lever carrying it are dis
carded, and instead of them a jointed tongue of steel, as at PJ/, is
inserted between the poles of the magnet, it will be unaffected by the
current except when a change occurs in its direction. It is then called
a polarized magnet. Its use will be explained a little further on. One

FIG. 6.

of the keys, /i", in the diagram, is provided with a spring, which is
in contact with the metal of the key when this latter is in its normal
position, and maintains across the key a circuit including a portion ot
the battery V. But when the key is depressed the spring comes in
contact with a screw, to which another circuit is connected, apply
ing the full strength of the battery to the line. The circuit across the
key is never broken, because the spring remains in contact with the
arm of the key until it begins to press against the screw. This key
works the magnet M, which has its retractile spring so adjusted as
to be overcome only by the full intensity of the current when the key
is down. The other key, K , is for changing the direction of the cur
rent, and working the polarized magnet, P M. Its construction is such
that, when not in use, one pole of the battery, the positive, for exam
ple, is in connection with the line, and the negative with the earth,
necessitating the passage of the current through the lino in the first
place ; but when the key is touched the negative pole is connect!
" to line " and the positive to earth, reversing the direction
current. These reversals of direction operate, as has been said, tl
polarized magnet P M.

To revert to the illustration we made use of in describing
plex, let the reader picture to himself a water-course in which b

7 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the direction and the volume of the current can be changed at pleas
ure. He can suppose, in addition to the water-wheels before figured,
and which will indicate the force of the stream, a pair of hinged valves
or gates, which, whether the current be strong or weak, will be moved
only by a change in its direction. The former will represent the or
dinary magnets, and the latter the polarized magnets.

It -is plain that, so far, this is only another form of duplex, sending
two messages in the same direction at once. To make it a quadruplex
telegraph it is necessary, in the first place, to add to it Stearns s du
plex, or a contrivance similar to it. Even then a dead-lock would
happen when the currents sent from each end of the line should be of
the same intensity, and opposite in direction ; that is, when all eight
operators were working together. To remedy this, extra batteries
are introduced, which are neutralized by part of the current in the
main circuit, when that is in a working condition, but are set free to
work the instruments when the currents in the main circuit destroy
one another. In the diagram the extra batteries, etc., have been omit
ted, as also the transmitting apparatus of one station and the record
ing instruments of the other.

Although not strictly coming under its title, because belonging,
as yet, rather to the future, this article would hardly be complete with
out some reference to a scheme of multiplex telegraphy which prom
ises results of the greatest importance. The ingenious magnetic
apparatus used by Prof. Helmholtz, of Berlin, in his researches in
acoustics, was too suggestive not to have inspired more than one in
ventor with the idea of turning it to account in telegraphy. Accord
ingly, several, both here and in Europe, have been trying to realize it,
and it is likely that the magnetically-excited tuning-forks, or the so
norous steel bars which may be substituted for them, will shortly be
heard in every telegraph-office. There seems, so far, to be no ascer
tained limit to the number of distinct musical notes which may be
propagated on a single wire at one time; and, when that limit is
found, it is likely that it may be doubled or quadrupled by means of
the- former systems. The reduction in the cost of erection and main
tenance of wires which this will bring about will be an enormous
saving to telegraph companies, especially to any new ones that may
be formed, or to the Government, if it should undertake the control
and extension of the service.

An interesting experiment of Sir Charles Wheatstone s on the trans
mission of sound through solid linear conductors has, perhaps, helped
to suggest this approaching transformation of the telegraph. An ac
count of it was published in 1831. A narrow wooden rod was attached
at one end to the sounding-board of a piano, and, after passing through
two empty rooms, was joined at the other end to a sounding-board
alone. Any piece of music played on the piano was distinctly heard
by means of the sounding-board in the distant room. And not the

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 79

least confusion ensued from the crowding together, for a considerable
distance, of the multitude of intricately-related vibrations in a rod
having a section of but one square inch.

Prof. Helmholtz s apparatus consisted of a number of electro-mag
nets acting on tuning-forks pitched to particular notes. His object
was so to combine those notes as to demonstrate the formation of
certain harmonious sounds ; but the object of the telegraph-inventors
is the reverse of that, namely, to transmit them in the form of electric
vibrations to a distance, and then as in Wheatstone s experiment
to sift them out again to separate instruments. In most of the plans
so far made public, a fixed steel bar takes the place of the tuning-fork,
and therefore of the armature as welL When attracted by the mag
net, on making a signal, it is of course set vibrating ; and, at every
forward vibratory movement, it closes the circuit and transmits an
electric impulse. A number of such magnets, their sonorous arma
tures sending each a different number of pulsations in a second, may
be working away at once, and the corresponding instruments at the
other end of the line will be acted on only by those which suit their
times of vibration. In other words, of the total number of electric
charges sent into the line, only those will act on any particular mag
net at the receiving end which suffice to cause in its armature the
number of vibrations per second to which it was set. This, of course,
is th same number which was sent by the transmitting instrument
of the same pair. Practically, the different tones are not reproduced
quite unmixed, every armature being capable of responding though
in a less degree, to other notes than its own ; so that the effect on
the ear, at one of the receiving magnets, is like that of a number of
persons talking together in different keys : some quite loudly ; some
in a lower tone; others in a whisper. To remedy this, different forms
of resonators are being tried, adapted to swell the special sounds that
should be heard.

The " electromotograph," described in connection with chemical
telegraphs, is intended, by its inventor, to be used with some form of
this acoustic system. Mr. Gray, of Chicago, another well-known tele
graph-inventor, is also understood to have made considerable prog
ress in this direction.

It is matter of reasonable pride to find, at the commencement <
our second century, the names of Americans so prominently connected
with all the great improvements in the art which owes so much
the labors of Morse and Henry.

80 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS.

BY G. J. KOMANES, M. A., F. L. S.

AMONG several other topics which are dealt with in an interest
ing article entitled " Animal Depravity " that appeared in the
Quarterly Journal of Science for October last, the writer alludes to the
question as to whether or not the rudiments of a moral sense are dis
cernible in animals. This question I consider to be of so much im
portance from a psychological point of view that, although a great
deal of observation which I have directed toward its enlightenment
has hitherto yielded but small results, I am tempted to publish the
latter, such as they are, in the hope that, if they serve no better end,
they may perhaps induce some other observers to bestow their atten
tion upon this very interesting subject.

I may first briefly state what I conceive to be the theoretical
standing of the subject. At the present day, when the general theory
of evolution is accepted by all save the ignorant or the prejudiced,
the antecedent probability is overwhelming that our moral sense, like
all our other psychological faculties, has been evolved. The question
as to the causes of its evolution has been discussed in the "Descent
of Man," and this with all the breadth of thought and force of fact so
characteristic of the writings which have exerted an influence upon
human thought more profound than has been exerted by the writings
of any other single man not even excepting Aristotle in philosophy
or Newton in science. Mr. Herbert Spencer, also, has treated of this
subject, and, if his wonderful " programme" is ever destined to attain
completion, we may expect copious results when his great powers are
brought to bear upon the "Principles of Morality." Meanwhile,
however, we have ample evidence to render it highly probable that at
any rate the leading causes in the development of our moral sense
have had their origin in the social instincts. Indeed, to any one who
impartially considers this evidence in the light of the general theory
of evolution, it must appear wellnigh incredible that so considerable
a body of proof cati ever admit of being overcome. Nor is this all.
Not only is it true that so much success has attended Mr. Darwin s
method of determining synthetically the causes which have been in
strumental in evolving the moral sense, 1 but, long before any scientific
theory of evolution had been given to the world, our great logician
following in the track of Hume (whose part in this matter has not, I
think, been sufficiently appreciated), Bentham, and others proved

1 I willingly indorse the just tribute recently paid to this part of Mr. Darwin s work
by Prof. Clifford : " To my mind the simplest and clearest and most profound philosophy
that was ever written upon this subject is to be found in chapters ii. and iii. of Mr. Dar
win s Descent of Man. " Fortnightly Review, p. 794.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 81

analytically, to the satisfaction of all competent and impartial thinkers,
that the moral sense is rooted in " the greatest amount of happiness
principle " as its sustaining source. In other words, John Stuart Mill,
by examining conscience as he found it to exist in man, showed that
it depends upon the very principle upon which it ought to depend,
supposing Mr. Darwin s theory elaborated, be it remembered, with
out any reference to Mr. Mill s analysis, and arrived at by a totally
different line of inquiry concerning the causes of its evolution to be
the true one.

Stronger evidence, then, as to the physical causes whose operation
has brought human conscience into being, we could scarcely expect,
in the present condition of physical science, to possess. It is unneces
sary, however, in this place to enter into the details of this evidence,
as almost every educated person must be more or less acquainted
with them. I shall therefore pass on to the next point which con
cerns us namely, supposing the causes of our moral sense to have
had their origin in the social instincts, where and to what extent
should we expect to find indications of an incipient moral sense in
animals? First, then, what do we meaii by conscience? AYe mean
that faculty of our minds which renders possible remorse or satisfac
tion for past conduct, which has been respectively injurious or bene
ficial to others. 1 This, at least, is what I conceive conscience to be in
its last resort. No doubt, as we find it in actual operation, the faculty
in question has reference to ideas of a higher abstraction than that of
the fellow-man whom we have injured or benefited. In most cases
the moral sense has reference to the volitions of a Deity, and in others
to- the human race considered as a whole. But, if the moral sense has
been developed in the way here supposed, its root-principle must be
that which has reference to ideas of no higher abstraction than those
of parent, neighbor, or tribe. Now, even in this its most rudimentary
phase of development, conscience presupposes a comparatively high
order of intelligence as the prime condition of its possibility. For
not only does the faculty as above defined require a good memory as
a condition essential to its existence, but what is of much greater
importance it also requires the power of reflecting upon past con
duct; and this, it is needless to say, appears to be a much rarer
quality in the psychology of animals than is mere memory.

Thus, if Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the origin and develop
ment of the moral sense is true,, we should not expect to find any in
dications of this faculty in any animals that are too low in the psy
chological scale to be capable of reflecting upon their past conduct,
Whether this limitation does not exclude all animals whatever is a
question with which I am not here concerned. I merely assert that,
if the theory in question is the true one, and if no animals are capable

1 For reasons which maj- easily be gathered from the next succeeding sentences, I
omit conscientious ideas of whfit is due to self.

VOL. IX. 6

82 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of reflecting upon their past conduct, then no animals can possess a
moral sense, properly so called. And from this, of course, it follows
that, if any animals can be shown to possess a moral sense, they
are thereby also shown to be capable of reflecting "upon their past
conduct.

Again, if Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the origin and develop
ment of the moral sense is true, it is self-evident that we should not
expect to find any indications of this faculty in animals that are either
unsocial or unsympathetic. Supposing the theory true, therefore, our
search for animals in which we may expect to find any indications of
a moral sense is thus seen to be very restricted in its range : we can
only expect to find such indications in animals that are highly intel
ligent, social, and sympathetic. Since, by the hypothesis, conscience
requires a comparatively rare collocation of conditions for its develop
ment, we must expect to find it a comparatively rare product.

Lastly, as it is quite certain that no animal is capable of reflecting
upon past conduct in any high degree, and as we have just seen that
the moral sense depends upon the faculty of so reflecting, it follows
that we cannot expect to find any animal in which the moral sense
attains any high degree of development.

We are now in a position to draw some important distinctions.
There are several instincts and feelings which, when expressed in out
ward action, more or less simulate conscience (so to speak), but which
it would be erroneous to call by that name. For instance, the mater
nal instinct, although it leads in many cases to severe and sustained
self-denial for the benefit of the offspring, is nevertheless clearly dis
tinct from conscience. The mother in tending her young does so in
obedience to an inherited instinct, and not from any fear of subsequent
self-reproach if she leaves her family to perish. She follows the ma
ternal instinct, so long as it continues in operation, just as she would
follow any other instinct ; and it is, as it were, a mere accident of the
case that in this particular instance the course of action which the
instinct prompts is a course of action which is conducive to the wel
fare of others. An illustration will render this distinction more clear.
In his chapter on the "Moral Sense," Mr. Darwin alludes to the con
flict of instincts which sometimes occurs in swallows when the migra
tory season overtakes a late brood of young birds ; at such times
" swallows, house-martins, and swifts, frequently desert their tender
young, leaving them to perish miserably in their nests." And further
on he remarks: " When arrived at the end of their long journey, and
the migratory instinct has ceased to act, what an agony of remorse
the bird would feel if, from being endowed with great mental activity,
she could not prevent the image constantly passing through her mind
of her young ones perishing in the bleak north from cold and hunger ! "
In other words, if we could suppose the mother-bird under such cir
cumstances to be capable of reflecting upon her past conduct, and, as

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 83

a consequence, suffering an " agony of remorse," then the bird might
properly be said to be conscience-stricken. And if we could suppose
the bird, while still brooding over her young ones, to foresee the agony
of remorse she would subsequently feel if she now yields to the stronger
instinct by deserting her young, then the bird might properly be said
to be acting conscientiously.

Again, mere fear of punishment must not be confused with con
science it being of the essence of conscientious action that it should
be prompted by feelings wholly distinct from fear of retaliation by
the object of injury, whether by way of punishment or revenge. Con
science must be capable of effecting its own punishment if violated ;
otherwise the principle of action, whatever it may be, must be called
by some other name. 1

It is evident that conscience, as we find it in ourselves, is distinct
from love of approbation and fear of disapprobation. Nevertheless,
if our hypothesis concerning the development of the moral sense is the
true one, we should expect that during the early phases of that devel
opment love of approbation and fear of disapprobation should have
played a large part in the formation of conscience. For although, by
the hypothesis, it is sympathy and not self-love that constitutes the
seat of the moral sense, still the particular manifestations of self-love
with which we are now concerned viz., desire of approbation and dis
like of the reverse would clearly be impossible but for the presence
of sympathy. "Mr. Bain has clearly shown that the love of praise,
and the strong feeling of glory, and the still stronger horror of scorn
and infamy, are due to the workings of sympathy. I think, there
fore, that in testing by observations upon the lower animals the
truth of Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the genesis of conscience, it
would be no valid objection to any satisfactory instances of conscien
tious action in an animal to say that such action is partly due to a de
sire of praise or a fear of blame. This would be no valid objection,
because, in the first place, it would in most cases be impossible to say
how far the implication is true how far the animal may have acted
from pure sympathy or regard for the feelings of others, and how far
from an admixture of sympathy with self-love; and in the next place,
even if the implication be conceded wholly true, it would not tend t
disprove the theory in question. If an animal s sympathies are s
powerful that, even after being reflected through self-love, they s
retain force enough to prompt a course of action which is in direct op
position to the more immediate dictates of self-love, then the sympa
thies of such an animal are hereby proved to be sufficiently e

i Of course I recognize fear of punishment as an important factor in the original con-
Dilution of the moral sentiment; but, for reasons stated at the end of tins article, w,
must, when treating of animal psychology, eliminate this factor when conscience has
sufficiently developed to be " a law to itself."
. i Descent of Man," p. 109 (1874). Mental and Moral Science," p. 254 (18

84 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

constitute the beginnings of a conscience, supposing the theory which
we are testing to be thelrue one.

Similarly, there is an obvious distinction in ourselves between in
jured conscience and injured pride. But, if conscience has been devel
oped in the way here supposed, it follows that in the rudimentary
stages of such development the distinction in question cannot be so
well denned. Pride presupposes consideration for the opinion of
others, and this in turn as we have just seen presupposes sympathy,
which is the foundation-stone of conscience. JSI ow, it is certain that
long before we reach, in the ascending scale of animal psychology, in
tellectual faculties sufficiently exalted to admit even of our suspecting
the presence of an incipient moral sense, we can perceive abundant
indications of the presence of pride. And, forasmuch as animals that
are high in the psychological scale frequently exhibit a very profound
appreciation of their own dignity, we may pretty safely conclude that
in no case can we expect to find indications of a moral sense in an ani
mal without a greater or less admixture of pride.

I will now sum up this rather tedious preamble : From Mr. Dar
win s theory concerning the development of conscience, it appears
to follow that the presence of this faculty in animals must be restrict
ed if it occurs at all to those which are intelligent enough to be ca
pable in some degree of reflecting upon past conduct, and which like
wise possess social and sympathetic instincts. From the first of these
conditions it follows, supposing Mr. Darwin s theory true, that in the
case of no animal should we expect to find the moral sense developed
in any other than a low degree.

There is no reason to suppose any mere instinct (such as the ma
ternal) due to conscience; for an instinct acquired by inheritance is
obeyed blindly, in order to avoid the uncomfortable sensation which
ensues in a direct manner if it is not so obeyed ; whereas conscience
enforces obedience only through a process of reflection ; 1 the uncom
fortable sensation which non-obedience entails in this case being only
brought about in an indirect manner through the agency of repre
sentative thought.

Although conscience in man is independent of, or distinct from,
love of approbation, fear of reproach, and sense of pride, there is no
reason why we should suppose conscience in its rudimentary forms to
be independent of these passions. On the contrary, I think we should
expect a rudimentary form of conscience to be more or less amalga
mated with such passions ; for, long before the faculty in question has
attained the highly-differentiated state in which we find it to be pres
ent in ourselves, it must (by the hypothesis) have passed through in-

1 i. e., originally : when once the habit of yielding obedience to conscience has been
acquired, it becomes itself of the nature of an instinct neglect to practise this habit giv
ing rise immediately, or without any process of reflection, to an uncomfortable state of
the mind.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 85

numerable states of lesser differentiation in which its existence was
presumably more and more bound up with that of those more primary
social instincts from which it first derived its origin. To us con
science means a massive consolidation of innumerable experiences, in
herited and acquired, of remorse following one class of actions and
gratification their opposites ; and this massive body of experience has
reference to ideas of an abstraction so high as to extend far beyond
the individual, or even the community, which our actions primarily
affect. No wonder, therefore, that, when any course of action is being
contemplated, conscience asserts her voice within us as a voice of
supreme authority, commanding us to look beyond all immediate is
sues, inclinations, and even sympathies, to those great principles of
action which the united experience of mankind has proved to be best
for the individual to follow in all his attempts to promote the hap
piness or to alleviate the misery of his race. But with animals, of
course, the case is different. They start with a very small allowance
of hereditary experience in the respects we are considering ; they have
very few opportunities of adding to those experiences themselves ; they
probably have no powers of forming abstract ideas; and so their
moral sense, rudimentary in its nature, can never be exercised with
reference to anything other than concrete objects relation, compan
ion, or herd.

We may now proceed to answer the question already propounded,
namely : Supposing Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the origin of the
moral sense to be true, where among animals should we expect to find
indications of such a sense ? I think reflection will show that the three
essential conditions to the presence of a moral sense are only complied
with among animals in the case of three groups namely, dogs, ele
phants, and monkeys. I need not say anything about the intelligence
or the sociability of these animals, for it is proverbial that there are
no animals so intelligent or more social. It is necessary, however, to
say a 1 few words about sympathy.

In the case of dogs sympathy exists in an extraordinary degree. I
have- myself seen the life of a terrier saved by another dog which
staid in the same house with him, and with which he had always
lived in a state of bitter enmity. Yet, when the terrier was one day
attacked by a large dog, which shook him by the back, and would
certainly have killed him, his habitual enemy rushed to the rescue, and,
after saving the terrier, had great difficulty in getting away himself.

With regard to elephants, I may quote the well-known instance
from the " Descent of Man : " " Dr. Hooker informs me that an ele
phant, which he was riding in India, became so deeply bogged that
he remained stuck fast until next day, when he was extracted by .
means of ropes. Under such circumstances elephants seize with their
trunks any object, dead or alive, to place under their knees, to pre
vent their sinking deeper in the mud ; and the driver was dreadfully

86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

afraid lest the animal should have seized Dr. Hooker and crushed him
to death. But the driver himself, as Dr. Hooker was assured, ran no
risk. This forbearance, under an emergency so dreadful for a heavy
animal, is a wonderful proof of noble fidelity." 1

Many cases of sympathy in monkeys might be given, but I shall
confine myself to stating one which I myself witnessed at the Zoologi
cal Gardens. 2 A year or two ago, there was an Arabian baboon and
an Anubis baboon confined in one cage, adjoining that which con
tained a dog-headed baboon. The Anubis baboon passed its hand
through the wires of the partition, in order to purloin a nut which the
large dog-headed baboon had left within reach expressly, I believe,
that it might act as a bait. The Anubis baboon very well knew the
danger he ran, for he waited until his bulky neighbor had turned his
back upon the nut with the appearance of having forgotten all about
it. The dog-headed baboon, however, was all the time slyly looking
round with the corner of his eye, and no sooner was the arm of his
victim well within his cage than he sprang with astonishing rapidity
and caught the retreating hand in his mouth. The cries of the Anu
bis baboon quickly brought the keeper to the rescue, when, by dint
of a good deal of physical persuasion, the dog-headed baboon was in
duced to let go his hold. The Anubis baboon then retired to the
middle of his cage, moaning piteously, and holding the injured hand
against his chest while he rubbed it with the other one. The Arabian
baboon now approached him from the top part of the cage, and, while
making a soothing sound, very expressive of sympathy, folded the
sufferer in its arms exactly as a mother would her child under simi
lar circumstances. It must be stated, also, that this expression of
sympathy had a decidedly quieting effect upon the sufferer, his moans
becoming less piteous so soon as he was enfolded in the arms of his
comforter ; and the manner in which he laid his cheek upon the bosom
of his friend was as expressive as anything could be of sympathy ap
preciated. This really affecting spectacle lasted a considerable time,
and while watching it I felt that, even had it stood alone, it would in
itself have been sufficient to prove the essential identity of some of
the noblest among human emotions with those of the lower animals.

If there is any validity in the foregoing antecedent reflections, all
who have the opportunity should make a point of observing whether
any indications of conscience are perceptible in monkeys, elephants,
or intelligent dogs. My own opportunities of observation have been
restricted to the last of these animals alone, so I shall conclude this
article by giving some instances which appear to me very satisfacto
rily to prove that intelligent and sympathetic dogs possess the rudi
ments of a moral sense.

1 See, also, Hooker s "Himalayan Journal," vol. ii., p. 333 (1854).
2 1 hope it is unnecessary to say that, in detailing this and all the subsequent inci
dents, I carefully avoid exaggeration or embellishment of any kind.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 87

I have a setter just now which has been made a pet of since a
puppy. As he has a very fine nose, and is at liberty to go wherever
he pleases, he often finds bits of food which he very well knows he
has no right to take. If the food he finds happens to be of a dainty
description, his conscientious scruples are overcome by the tempta
tions of appetite; but, if the food should be of a less palatable kind, he
generally carries it to me in order to obtain my permission to eat it.
Now, as no one ever beats or even scofds this dog for stealing, his
only object in thus asking permission to eat what he finds must be
that of quieting his conscience. It should be added that when he
brings stolen property to me it does not always follow that he is al
lowed to keep it.

This same animal, when I am out shooting with him, sometimes
of course flushes birds. When he does so he immediately comes to
me in a straight line, carrying his head and tail very low, as if to ask
for pardon. Although I speak reproachfully to him on such occasions,
I scarcely ever chastise him; so it cannot be fear that prompts this
demeanor.

One other curious fact may here be mentioned about this dog.
Although naturally a very vivacious animal, and, when out for a walk
with myself or any other young person, perpetually ranging about in
search of game, yet if taken out for a walk by an elderly person he
keeps close to heel all the time pacing along with a slow step and se
date manner, as different as possible from that which is natural to him.
This curious behavior is quite spontaneous on- his part, and appej
to rise from his sense of the respect that is due to age.

The writer of the article on " Animal Depravity" makes the
lowino- quotation from an article of mine in Nature (vol. xii., page
66) " The terrier used to be very fond of catching flies upoi
window-panes, and if ridiculed when unsuccessful was evidently n
annoyed. On one occasion, in order to see what he would do, I pui
posely laughed immoderately every time he failed, It so happei
that he did so several times in succession-partly, I believe, m co.
quence of my laughing-and eventually he became so distress
he positively pretended to catch the fly, going through all the ap
pro Jriate aciions with his lips and tongue, and afterward rubbmg
ground with his neck as if to kill the victim ; he then looked up a
with a triumphant air of success. So wel **^*"
simulated that I should have been quite deceived, had I not t
the fly was still upon the window. Accordingly, I drew his at ent on
to hi* fact, as well as to the absence of anything upon the floe, ami
he saw that his hypocrisy had been detected ho

88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and of their total want of conscience." I think this observation is
warranted by the facts, for although I have heard it objected that the
feeling displayed by the terrier in this case was that of wounded pride
rather than of wounded conscience, still, from what has been previ-.
ously said concerning this distinction in the case of animals, it will be
seen that in this instance it is not easy to draw the line between these
two sentiments.

The following instances, however, all of which occurred with the
terrier just mentioned, are free from this difficulty :

For a long time this terrier was the only canine pet I had. One
day, however, I brought home a large dog, and chained him up out
side. The jealousy of the terrier toward the new-comer was extreme.
Indeed, I never before knew that jealousy in an animal could arrive at
such a pitch ; but, as it would occupy too much space to enter into
details, it will be enough to say that I really think nothing that could
have befallen this terrier would have pleased him so much as would
any happy accident by which he might get well rid of his rival. Well,
a few nights after the new dog had arrived, the terrier was, as usual,
sleeping in my bedroom. About one o clock in the morning he began
to bark and scream very loudly, and, upon my waking up and telling
him to be quiet, he ran between the bed and the window in a most
excited manner, jumping on and off the toilet-table after each jour
ney, as much as to say : " Get up quickly ; you have no idea of what
shocking things are going on outside ! " Accordingly, I got up, and
was surprised to see the large dog careering down the road ; he had
broken loose, and, being wild with fear at finding himself alone in a
strange place, was running he knew not whither. Of course I went
out as soon as possible, and after about half an hour s work succeeded
in capturing the runaway. I then brought him into the house and
chained him up in the hall ; after which I fed and caressed him with
the view of restoring his peace of mind. During all this time the
terrier had remained in my bedroom, and, although he heard the
feeding and caressing process going on down-stairs, this was the only
time I ever knew him fail to attack the large dog when it was taken
into the house. Upon my reentering the bedroom, and before I said
anything, the terrier met me with certain indescribable grinnings and
prancings, which he always used to perform when conscious of hav
ing been a particularly good dog. Now, I consider the whole of this
episode a very remarkable instance in an animal of action prompted
by a sense of duty. No other motive than the voice of conscience can
here be assigned for what the terrier did ; even his strong jealousy oi
the large dog gave way before the yet stronger dread he had of ihe
remorse he knew he should have to suffer, if next day he saw me dis
tressed at a loss which it had been in his power to prevent. What
makes the case more striking is, that this was the only occasion dur
ing the many years he slept in my bedroom that the terrier disturbed

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS.

89

me in the night-time. Indeed, the scrupulous care with which he
avoided making the least noise while I was asleep, or pretending to be
asleep, was quite touching, even the sight of a cat outside, which at
any other time rendered him frantic, only causing him to tremble
violently with suppressed emotion when he had reason to suppose that
I was not awake. If I overslept myself, however, he used to jump
upon the bed and push my shoulder gently with his paw.

The following instance is likewise very instructive : I must premise
that the terrier in question far surpassed any animal or human being
I ever knew in the keen sensitiveness of his feelings, and that he was
never beaten in his life. 1 Well, one day he was shut up in a room by
himself, while everybody, in the house where he was, went out. See
ing his friends from the window as they departed, the terrier appears
to have been overcome by a paroxysm of rage ; for when I returned
I found that he had torn all the bottoms of the window-curtains to
shreds. When I first opened the door he jumped about as dogs in
general do under similar circumstances, having apparently forgotten,
in his joy at seeing me, the damage he had done. But when, without
speaking, I picked up one of the torn shreds of the curtains, the terrier
gave a howl, and, rushing out of the room, ran up-stairs screaming
as loudly as he w r as able. The only interpretation I can assign to this
conduct is, that, his former fit of passion having subsided, the dog was
sorry at having done what he knew would annoy me ; and, not being
able to endure in my presence the remorse of his smitten conscience,
he ran to the farthest corner of the house crying peccavi in the lan
guage of his nature.

I could give several other cases of conscientious action on the part
of this terrier, but, as the present article is already too long, I shall
confine myself to giving but one other case. This, however, is the

1 A reproachful word or look from me, when it seemed to him that occasion required
it, was enough to make this dog miserable for a whole day. I do not know what would
have happened had I ventured to strike him ; but once when I was away from home a
friend used to take him out every day for a walk in the park. He always enjoyed
his walks very much, and was now wholly dependent upon this gentleman for obtaining
them. (He was once stolen in London through the complicity of my servants, and never
after that would he go out by himself, or with any one he knew to be a servant.) Never
theless, one day while he was amusing himself with another dog in the park, my friend,
in order to persuade him to follow, struck him with a glove. The terrier looked up at
his face with an astonished and indignant gaze, deliberately turned round, and trotted
home. Next day he went out with my friend as before, but after he had gone a short
distance he looked up at his face significantly, and again trotted home with a dignified
air. After this my friend could never induce the terrier to go out with him again,
remarkable, also, that this animal s sensitiveness was not only of a selfish kind, but ex
tended itself in sympathy for others. Whenever he saw a man striking a dog, whether
in the house or outside, near at hand or at a distance, he used to rush to the protec
of his fellow, snarling and snapping in a most threatening way. Again, when driving
with me in a dog-cart, he always used to seize the sleeve of my coat every time I
the horse with the whip.

9 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

most unequivocal instance I have ever known of conscience being
manifested by an animal.

I had had this dog for several years, and had never even in his
puppyhood known him to steal. On the contrary, he used to make
an excellent guard to protect property from other animals, servants,
etc., even though these were his best friends. 1 Nevertheless, on one
occasion he was very hungry, and, in the room where I was reading
and he was sitting, there was, within easy reach, a savory mutton-
chop. I was greatly surprised to see him stealthily remove this chop
and take it under a sofa. However, I pretended not to observe what
had occurred, and waited to see what would happen next. For fully
a quarter of an hour this terrier remained under the sofa without
making a sound, but doubtless enduring an agony of contending feel
ings. Eventually, however, conscience came off victorious, for, emerg
ing from his place of concealment and carrying in his mouth the
stolen chop, he came across the room and laid the tempting morsel at
my feet. The moment he dropped the stolen property he bolted again
under the sofa, and from this retreat no coaxing could charm him for
several hours afterward. Moreover, when during that time he was
spoken to or patted, he always turned away his head in a ludicrously
conscience-stricken manner. Altogether I do not think it would be
possible to imagine a more satisfactory exhibition of conscience by
an animal than this ; for it must be remembered, as already stated,
that the particular animal in question was never beaten in its life. 2 -
Advance-sheets of the Quarterly Journal of Science.

1 I have seen this dog escort a donkey Which had baskets on its back filled with ap
ples. Although the dog did not know that he was being observed by anybody, he did
his duty with the utmost faithfulness ; for, every time the donkey turned back its head to
take an apple out of the baskets, the dog snapped at its nose ; and such was his watch
fulness that, although his companion was keenly desirous of tasting some of the fruit,
he never allowed him to get a single apple during the half-hour they were left together.
I have also seen this terrier protecting meat from other terriers (his sons), which lived in
the same house with him, and with which he was on the very best of terms. More curious
still, I have seen him seize my wristbands while they were being worn by a friend to
whom I temporarily lent them.

2 This latter point is most important, because, although the moral sentiment in its
incipient stages undoubtedly depends in a large measure upon fear of punishment, still,
in its more developed state, this sentiment is as undoubtedly independent of such fear
(Of. Bain, " Mental and Moral Science," pp. 456-459, 1875) ; and forasmuch as in our
analysis of animal psychology we can be guided only by the study of outward actions,
and forasmuch as the course of action prompted by direct fear of punishment will nearly
always be identical with that prompted by true conscience, it is of the first importance
to obtain cases such as the above, in which mere dread of punishment cannot even be
suspected to have been the motive principle of action.

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 91
AIE-GEKMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENEKATION. 1

BY P. SCHtTZENBEEGEE.

E question of the origin of ferments is intimately connected with
- that of spontaneous generation. In fact, from the time of Van
Helmont and others, who, even in the seventeenth century, gave direc
tions for the production of mice, frogs, eels, etc., the partisans of this
mode of generation have, by the progress of the tendency to examine
into the causes of things, been driven from the larger animals or plants
visible to the naked eye, to the smallest living productions, which we
can observe only by the aid of the microscope. But ferments are
found among these inferior microscopic organisms; Redi, a member
of the Academy of Cimento, showed that the worms in putrefied flesh,
which were at first thought to be of spontaneous origin, are only the
larvae from the eggs of flies, and that all that was necessary, to pre
vent entirely the birth of these larva?, was to surround the decompos
ing meat with fine gauze; he was the first to ascertain that parasitic
animals are sexual and able to lay eggs.

The invention of the microscope, and the numerous observations by
which it was followed, toward the end of the seventeenth, and the
commencement of the eighteenth century, gave fresh impulse to the
doctrine of spontaneous generation, which had lost all credit in ques
tions concerning the origin of living beings of a higher order.

The question now was how to explain the origin of the various
living productions, revealed by the microscope in infusions of vege
table and animal substances, among which no apparent symptom of
sexual generation could then be found.

The subject was studied for the first time in a scientific manner by
Needham, who published, in 1745, in London, a work on this subject.
This observer did for infusoria what had already been done for the
higher organisms. He protected, or rather endeavored to protect,
vegetable or animal infusions from the action of germs, seeds, or any
other agents of multiplication which could come from without. At
the same time he destroyed by a physical agent, heat, the germs which
might be supposed to exist beforehand in the liquid. Under these
conditions, either living beings will be produced in the midst of the
infusion, or none will be found there ; in the former case, it must be
admitted that these organisms are developed in the medium which is
suitable to them, without the intervention of any germ ; in the second,
that the doctrine of spontaneous generation is false. In reality, the
question can only be resolved in this manner, and all experimenters

i Abridged from " Schutzenbergcr on Fermentations," No. XX. of the "International
Scientific Series."

92 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

who have entered upon it from Needham s time to the present day
ought to have made use of it.

The serious and grave difficulty, on which, during this period, all
discussions raised between heterogenists and panspermists have turned,
is so to arrange the experiments as to remove every suspicion of the
intervention of germs brought from without, or preexisting, in the
liquid.

If the result is negative, if when all precautions that seem to be
necessary have been taken, and all causes of error have been removed,
there is no formation of infusoria, it will be difficult to raise any seri
ous objection to the inevitable conclusion, provided that the methods
employed for the purpose of eliminating the preexisting germs are not
of such a nature as to modify the medium, and to render it unfit for
the development and the nutrition of living organisms. If, on the
contrary, we still meet with the birth of living beings, the suspicion
will always revive that the experiment has been badly performed, and
that a contrary result would have been obtained by conducting it more
carefully. The heterogenists, therefore, find themselves in a more dis
advantageous situation than their opponents, and, notwithstanding
the success which they may obtain, they will never convince them.

We think, therefore, that it is useless to give here a detailed
account of their minute researches ; they must be consulted in the
original memoirs. A single experiment which proves, by a negative
result, that organic infusions, protected from germs from without, do
not give birth to infusoria, is worth more, scientifically speaking, than
ten experiments tending to establish the contrary opinion.

If, therefore, we pass over the details of the fundamental experi
ments of the heterogenists, and speak of those the results of which are
conformable to the ideas of the panspermists, it will not be in a spirit
of partiality. We are convinced that the latter are the only ones free
from all objections, the relative skill of the operators being disregard
ed, and considered as nothing in the estimate formed. We may, how
ever, say that M. Pasteur s researches may serve as a model for all
those who may wish to conduct investigations of this kind, whatever
may be the preconceived opinion by which they are guided. By their
precision, and the care taken to remove every source of error, they
leave nothing to be desired.

As the results obtained by M. Pasteur lead him to deny spontane
ous generation, his opponents must above all prove that he is mis
taken, by adopting the same rigorous experimental conditions. JSTeed-
ham s experiments, which led him to admit and sustain the doctrine
of spontaneous generation, consisted essentially in placing organic
substances which were capable of decomposition, in vessels hermeti
cally sealed, which were subsequently submitted to a high temperature,
in order to destroy the preexisting germs. The work of the English
writer attracted great notice on account of the support of Buffon,

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 93

whose ideas lie upheld. Soon after began the great controversy be
tween Needham and Spallanzani, who refuted, by experiment, the
conclusions arrived at by Needham.

The controversy turned principally on this point: Spallanzani was
not satisfied with heating the hermetically-sealed vessels containing
the infusions, for several minutes, merely the time which is required to
cook a herfs-egg, and to destroy the germs, as Needham expresses it,
but he kept them for the space of an hour in boiling water. He then
observed no production of infusoria. But, objects the English ob
server, from the manner in which he treated and put to the torture
his nineteen vegetable infusions, it is evident that he not only much
weakened, or perhaps totally destroyed, the vegetative force of the
substances infused, but also entirely corrupted, by the exhalations
and the odor of the fire, the small portion of air which remained in^
the empty part of his vessels. It is not, therefore, surprising that his
infusions, thus treated, gave no signs of life. Such must necessarily
have been the case. This idea, that the action of the temperature of
boiling water destroys the vegetative force of infusions, is maintained
even at the present day, and has served as an argument to the hete-
rogenists ; as they were unable to attack the material correctness of
Pasteur s experiments, they did not accept the conclusions which he
sought to derive from them.

We find also in the passage just cited, the necessity for the experi
ments made by Schwann and Helmholtz on calcined air, and for those
of Schroder and F. Dusch, on strained air. The objection of a possi
ble change in the air contained in the vial, under the influence of pro
longed boiling, in presence of organic substances, was a serious one at
the time that it was brought forward; it becomes more so, when we
know that the air confined over preserved meats, prepared by Ap-
pert s process, contains no oxygen. It was, therefore, absolutely ne
cessary to place the infusions in contact with air in a normal condi
tion, after that boiling had deprived them of their preexisting germs,
avoiding at the same time any new germs brought by the air.

For this purpose, Dr. Schwann heated flasks containing the infu
sions, until the destruction of the germs was insured; but his flask
was not closed : it communicated freely with the surrounding air by
mean of a glass tube bent in the form of a U, and heated, in one
part of its length, by means of a bath of fusible alloy. Under these
conditions, the air may be renewed in the flasks, but the fresh atmos
pheric air admitted has undergone, like the infusion, the action of
heat, which destroys the germs. Schwann s experiment was very
decisive, as to broth made from meat ; and the negative result (no
development of infusoria) was quite satisfactory. But it was not the
same with analogous trials on alcoholic fermentation, which gave con
tradictory results. Ure and Helmholtz repeated and multiplied these
experiments with the same success.

94 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

To obviate the objection* of a possible change by heat, in a mys
terious and undefined principle, different from germs, but whose pres
ence in the air was necessary to the production of infusoria, Schultze
caused the renewed air to pass through energetic chemical reagents,
such as concentrated sulphuric acid. He half filled a glass vessel
with distilled water containing various animal and vegetable sub
stances ; then stopped the vessel with a cork through which passed
two bent tubes, and exposed the apparatus thus arranged to the tem
perature of boiling water. Then, while the vapor was still escaping
through the tubes, he adapted to each of them a Liebig s bulb appa
ratus, one containing concentrated sulphuric acid, and the other con
centrated caustic potash. The high temperature must necessarily
have destroyed every living thing, all the germs that might happen
to be in the inside of the vessel, or of its appendages, and the commu
nication from without was intercepted by the sulphuric acid on one
side and the potassa on the other. Nevertheless, it was easy to
renew, by aspiration at the end of the apparatus which contained the
potassa, the air thus inclosed, and the fresh quantities of this fluid
which were introduced could not carry with them any living germ,
for they were forced to pass through a bath of concentrated sulphuric
acid. M. Schultze placed the apparatus thus arranged at a well-
lighted window, side by side with an open vessel, which contained an
infusion of the same organic substances ; then he was careful to renew
the air in his apparatus several times a day for more than two months,
and to examine with the microscope what took place in the infusion.
The open vessel was soon found filled with vibrios and monads, to
which were soon added polygastric infusoria of a larger size, and even
rotifers ; but by the most attentive observation he could not discover
the least trace of infusoria, conferva, or mildews, in the infusion con
tained in the apparatus.

The latest researches of Schroder and Yon Dusch (1854-1859) tend
ed to raise another objection, the possible change in a special prin
ciple in the air, by a reagent as energetic as sulphuric acid. Guided
by the experiments of Loewel, who ascertained that common air, when
it had been previously filtered through cotton, was unfit to cause the
crystallization of supersaturated solutions of sodium sulphate, they
placed one of the tubes of Schultze S apparatus in communication with
a tube 1.18 inch in diameter, and from 19.68 to 23.62 inches in length,
filled with cotton-wool. The other tube was connected with an aspi
rator.

When the liquid, the interior of the flask, and the tubes, had been
deprived of air by boiling, the apparatus was removed to its place,
and the aspiration continued night and day. The two observers thus
proved that meat, to which water hod been adde^l, the wort of beer,
urine, starch, paste, and the various materials of milk taken separate
ly, remained intact in the filtered air. On the contrary, milk, meat

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 95

without water, and the yolk of egg, grew putrid as rapidly as in com
mon air.

The result of these experiments is, that there are spontaneous de
compositions of organic substances which require nothing but the
presence of oxygen gas to cause them to commence; while others
need, besides oxygen, the presence in the atmospheric air of those
unknown things, which are destroyed by heat or sulphuric acid, or
are retained by the cotton.

The two observers do not then decide on the nature of these things,
and do not assert categorically that they are germs, and, in reality,
nothing allows us to draw these conclusions.

M. Pasteur s experiments have advanced the question another
step, by proving that they are really germs of ferments and infusoria,
which are destroyed by heat, or arrested by the sulphuric acid or cot
ton in the experiments alluded to above.

M. Pasteur made a hole in a window-shutter, several metres above
the ground, and through this he passed a glass tube .196 inch in
diameter, and containing a plug of soluble cotton .39 inch in length,
kept in its place by a spiral platinum wire. One of the ends of this
tube passed into the street ; the other communicated with a continuous
aspirator. When the air had passed for a sufficient time, the plug of
cotton, more or less soiled by the dust which it had intercepted, was
placed in a small tube with the mixture of alcohol and ether, which
dissolves gun-cotton. It was left for the space of a day. All the
dust was deposited at the bottom of the tube, where it is easy to
wash it by decantation, without any loss, if care is taken to separate
each washing by an interval of repose of from twelve to twenty hours.
The deposit, and the liquid which covers it, are put in a watch-glass
together ; after the evaporation of the alcohol, the remainder is placed
in water, and examined with the microscope. M. Pasteur also made
use of ordinary sulphuric acid in order to moisten the dust. This
agent had the effect of separating the grains of starch and calcium
carbonate, which are always found in greater or less quantities in
deposits collected on-the plug of cotton.

FIGS. 1 AND 2.-ORGANTC CORPUSCLES OP DUST, MIXED WITH AMORPHOUS PARTICLES.

Figs. 1 and 2 represent organic corpuscles, associated with amor
phous particles, as seen through the microscope, under a power of 350
diameters; the liquid containing them was common sulphuric acid.

96 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fig. 1 applies to dust collected from the 25th to the 26th of June,
1860; Fig. 2 to dust from the very intense fog of January, 1861.

It was not enough to discover with the microscope organic parti
cles mixed with amorphous substances, but it was necessary to prove
that these particles really consisted of fertile germs, capable of pro
ducing the infusoria which are developed in such abundance iA organic
liquids exposed to the air. For this purpose, M. Pasteur arranged the
experiment in the following manner :

Into a flask capable of containing from 15 to 18 cubic inches, he
introduced 6 to 9 cubic inches of albuminous saccharine water, pre
pared in the following proportions :

Water, 100 ;

Sugar, 10;

Albuminoid and mineral matter from beer-yeast, .2 to .7.

The neck of the drawn-out neck-flask communicated with a plati
num tube, as shown in Fig. 3. In this first stage of the experiment
the T-shaped tube with three stopcocks is removed, and its place sup
plied by a simple India-rubber connecting-piece. The platinum tube
is raised to a red heat by means of a small gas-furnace. The liquid
is boiled for two or three minutes, and is then allowed to grow com
pletely cold. It is filled with common air, at the ordinary pressure
of the atmosphere, but which has been wholly exposed to a red heat ;
then the neck of the flask is hermetically sealed.

This, being thus prepared and detached, is placed in a stove at a
constant temperature of about 86 Fahr. ; it may be kept there for
any length of time without the least change in the liquid which it con
tains. It preserves its limpidity, its smell, and its weak acid reaction ;
even a very slight absorption of oxygen is mainly to be observed.
M. Pasteur affirms that he never had a single experiment, which was
arranged as described above, which yielded a doubtful result; while
water of yeast mixed with sugar, and boiled for two or three minutes,
and then exposed to the air, was already in evident process of decom
position in a day or two, and was found to be filled with bacteria and
vibrios, or covered with mucors. These experiments are directly
opposed to those of Messrs. Pousset, Mantegazzo, Joly, and Mussel.

It is therefore clearly proved that sweetened yeast-water, a liquid
very liable to be decomposed by the contact of common air, may be
preserved for years unaltered when it has been exposed to the action
of calcined air, after having been allowed to boil for a few minutes
(two or three). 1

This being determined, M. Pasteur adapted, by means of an India-
rubber tube, the closed point of his flask filled with sweetened yeast-

1 M. Pasteur has pointed out a cause of want of success, which has led many experi
menters into error ; by showing that the mercury of a mercurial trough is a complete
receptacle for living organisms, and consequently that all experiments made with such a
trough must necessarily induce a development of infusoria.

AIR- GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 97

water, which had been kept for two or three months in a heated
stove, without any development of organisms, to an apparatus ar
ranged like that in Fig. 3.

The pointed end of the flask passed into a strong glass tube .39 to
46 inch in its inner diameter, within which he had placed a piece of
tube of small diameter, open at both ends, free to slip into the larger
tube, and inclosing a portion of one of the small plugs of cotton
loaded with dust. The larger glass tube is bound to a brass tube in
form of a T, furnished with stopcocks, one of which communicates
VOL. ix. 7

98 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

wrth the air-pump, another with the heated platinum tube, and the
third with the flask, by means of the large tube which contains the
smaller one with the cotton. These various parts are joined together
by means of India-rubber.

The experiment is commenced by exhausting the air, after having
closed the stopcock connected with the red-hot metallic tube. This
being afterward opened, allows calcined air to enter the tubes slowly ;
this operation (exhaustion and readmission of calcined air) is repeated
several times. The point of the flask is then broken off within the
India-rubber, and the small tube containing the dust is allowed to slip
into the flask, the neck of which is again sealed with the lamp. As
an additional proof, and to obviate all objections, the same arrange
ments were made with similar flasks, prepared like the preceding, but
with this difference that, instead of cotton charged with atmospheric
dust, there was substituted a small piece of tube containing calcined
asbestos (as an additional precaution, it had been ascertained that
calcined asbestos, loaded with atmospheric dust, by the same means
as the cotton, gave identical results).

The following are the observations obtained constantly by M. Pas
teur :

In all the flasks, into which dust collected from the air was intro-

. .

duced 1. Organic productions began to make their appearance in

the liquid after twenty-four, thirty-six, or forty-eight hours at the
most. This was precisely the time necessary for the same phenomena
to appear in sweetened yeast-water exposed to contact with the at
mosphere.

2. The products observed are of the same kind as those which are
seen to make their appearance in the liquid when left freely exposed
to the air, such as mucors, common mucidines, torulacei, bacteria, and
vibrios of the smallest species, the largest of which, the Fionas lens, is
only .000157 inch in diameter.

When the water of yeast is replaced by urine, the experiment
being conducted exactly in the same manner, we always notice the
absence of any change as long as atmospheric dust has not been intro
duced, while, with the addition of this, numerous organisms are
developed, in every respect similar to those which appear and are
developed in urine kept in the open air. If, on the contrary, the ex
periment be repeated with common milk, we may be sure that it will
in every case curdle, and become putrid. We shall observe the birth
of numerous vibrios of the same species, and bacteria, and the oxygen
of the flask will disappear. M. Pasteur thinks that this result, so dif
ferent from those observed in other liquids, arises only from the fact
that milk contains germs of vibrios which resist the boiling heat of
water. To prove th^s, he boiled milk, not at 212 Fahr., or at the usual
pressure of the atmosphere, but at 230 Fahr., under a greater pressure,
and he found that the flasks thus prepared, and hermetically sealed,

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 99

could be kept for an indefinite time in the stove, without giving rise
to the smallest production of mould or infusoria. The milk preserves
its taste, its smell, and all its properties ; and the atmosphere of the
flask is only slightly modified in its composition. This difference be

tween milk and urine, or sweetened yeast-water, must be attributed
to the alkaline condition of the former medium, whereas the two oth
ers are acid. In fact, if we previously neutralize the acid of the sweet
ened yeast-water, by means of calcium carbonate, we obtain organisms
under the same conditions of the experiment as those under which
they were not before developed.

ioo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

These facts led M. Pasteur to make researches on the comparative
action of temperature on the fecundity of the spores of the mucidines,
and of the germs which exist suspended in the atmosphere.

The following is, in few words, the method followed by him : He
passed a small portion of asbestos over the small heads of the moulds
which he washed to study ; he then placed this asbestos, covered w 7 ith
spores, in a small glass tube, which he introduced into a U-tube
(Fig. 4) of larger diameter, in which the smaller tube could move
freely ; one of the extremities of the U-tube is joined by India-rubber
to a metal tube in form of a T, with stopcocks. One of these cocks
communicated with the air-pump, another with a red-hot platinum
tube. The other extremity has an India-rubber tube which is con
nected with the flask into which the spores are to be introduced ; this
flask is hermetically sealed, and has been filled with calcined air,
and suitable nutritious liquid previously raised to the boiling-point.
Finally, the U-tube dips into a bath of oil, of common water, or salt
water, according to the temperature which we wish to attain. Be
tween the U-tube and that of platinum, there is a drying-tube with
sulphuric pumice-stone. When all the apparatus which precedes the
platinum tube has* been filled with calcined air, and the spores have
been maintained at the desired temperature for a sufficient time, which
may be varied at pleasure, the point of the flask is broken with a blow
of a hammer, without unfastening the India-rubber connecting-pieces
which attach the flask to the U-tube ; then inclining to a proper angle
this latter tube, when removed from its bath, the asbestos with its
spores is slipped into the flask. The flask is then hermetically sealed,
and is carried to the stove at 68 to 86 Fahr. The experiment with
the dust from the air is also made in the same manner with asbestos.

Without any humidity, the fecundity of the spores of Penecillium
glaucum is preserved up to 248 Fahr., and even a little above 257
Fahr. It is the same with the spores of the other common mucidines.
At 266 Fahr., the power of developing or multiplying is destroyed in
all of them. The limits are the. same for the dust from the air.

In all these careful experiments, the most scrupulous precautions
were taken to prevent the access of the slightest portion of common
air. But, say the partisans of heterogenesis, if the smallest portion
of common air develops organisms in any infusion whatever, it must
necessarily be the case that, if these organisms are not spontaneously
generated, there must be germs of a multitude of various productions
in this portion of common air, however small it may be ; and, if things
were so, the ordinary air would be loaded with organic matter, which
would form a thick mist in it.

M. Pasteur has shown that there is a great deal of exaggeration in
the opinion that even the smallest quantity of air is sufficient to de
velop multitudes of organisms ; that, on the contrary, there is not in
the atmosphere a continuous cause of these so-called spontaneous gen-

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 101

erations; that it is always possible to procure, in any determined
place, a limited quantity of common air, having undergone no kind
of modification, whether physical or chemical, and nevertheless quite
unsuited to set up any decomposing action in a liquid eminently pu-
trescible. The method of experimenting is very simple. Into a flask
of 15 to 18 cubic inches, 9 cubic inches of a liquid that has a tendency
to decomposition are introduced ; the neck of the flask is drawn out
with the lamp, leaving the point open; then the liquid is boiled till
the vapor escaping from the extremity has expelled all the air; at this
moment the point of the flask is closed by the lamp, by means of a
blowpipe, and it is allowed to grow cool. The flask then contains no
air; if we break off the point in any particular place, the air reenters
suddenly, carrying into it the germs held in suspension ; it is again
closed with the lamp, and kept in a stove at a temperature of 68 to
86 Fahr. In the generality of cases, organisms are developed ; these
organisms are even more varied than if the liquid were freely exposed
to the air, which M. Pasteur explains by saying that, in this case, the
germs in small number, in a limited volume of air, are not hindered in
their development by germs in greater number or more precocious in
their fecundity, which are able to occupy the space* and leave no room
for them. But it is especially important to notice in the results ob
tained by this method, what frequently happens many times in each
series of trials, that the liquid continues absolutely intact, however
long it may have remained in the stove, as if it had been filled with
calcined air. This phenomenon is the more striking, and shows itself
in more marked proportions, when the air received into the flasks is
taken from a greater height. Thus, among twenty flasks opened in the
country, eight contained organic productions ; out of twenty opened
on the Jura, only five contained any ; and out of twenty flasks opened
at Montanvert, in a rather high wind, blowing from the deepest gorges
of the " Glacier des Bois," only one was affected by any change.

FIG. 28. M. PASTEUR S FLASK TO DEPRITE THE AIR OF ITS GERMS.

We may also draw other conclusions from this series of observa
tions. Since the putrescible liquid, which had been previously boiled,
and which was contained in the flasks, was filled with organic produc-

102 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tions in a great number of instances, after the introduction of a limited
quantity of air, the genetic power of the infusions had not been de
stroyed by the material conditions of the experiments. Besides, this
objection, which has been raised ever since the earliest controversies
between the heterogenists and the panspermists, has been definitely
answered by an experiment made by M. Pasteur ; he received in a
flask, exhausted and deprived of living germs by the momentary ap
plication of a sufficiently high temperature, some blood at the instant
that it left the organism, and without allowing this liquid, which is so
peculiarly putrescible, to come in contact with air. By permitting air
deprived of germs, either by calcination or simple filtration, to enter
the flask, and then hermetically sealing it, he found that the blood
was preserved for an indefinite period intact, although it had not been
exposed to heat.

M. Pasteur has also shown that air may be deprived of germs by
its passage through a capillary tube bent upon itself. It is, therefore,
sufficient, in most cases, to draw out the neck of the flask so as to form
a very long, narrow tube, which is bent in several directions, as, for
example, in Fig. 5. When the air originally contained in it has
been expelled, and \he preexisting germs killed by prolonged boiling,
the flask is allowed to cool slowly.

In closing our account of M. Pasteur s interesting memoir, in which
heterogenesis was driven to its last intrenchments, we must add that
this learned chemist endeavored to deprive his adversaries of one of
their principal arguments. Experiments on spontaneous generation
have always been conducted with vegetable or animal infusions ; it
was supposed by Needham, Buffon, and Pouchet, that organisms were
only thus produced at the moment of expiring Nature, when the ele
ments of the beings on which they are developed are entering into
new chemical combinations, and are passing fuUy through the phe
nomena of fermentation or putrefaction.

In other words, albuminoid matters preserve in some degree a cer
tain reserve of vitality, which would allow them to become organic
by contact with oxygen, when the conditions of temperature and hu
midity are favorable. Starting with the idea that albuminoid sub
stances are only aliments for the germs of infusoria, mucidines, or fer
ments, M. Pasteur has proved directly that organic substances may
be replaced by those which are purely mineral or artificial, or, at
least, by substances on which this imaginary vegetative force cannot
be supposed to have any influence.

SKETCH OF DR. AUSTIN FLINT, JR. IO3

SKETCH OF DR. AUSTIN FLINT, JR.

rTlHIS gentleman has won his scientific eminence in the field of
-L physiology. Though but forty years of age, he has attained the
highest rank in his chosen department as an experimental inquirer,
teacher, and author having published the most elaborate treatise
upon the subject of physiology in the English language.

The name of Flint is now famous in the medical world through
the celebrity of both father and son ; but there is probably a factor
of inherited genius in this line which goes to their making up, for
they have come from a long race of doctors. This is the genetic line
of the generations of medical Flints, so far as Americans will be inter
ested to know it. They are descended from Thomas Flint, who came
from Matlock, Derbyshire, England, in 1638, and settled in Concord,
Massachusetts. Edward Flint, physician of Shrewsbury, Mass., was
father of the great-grandfather of the subject of this sketch. The
great-grandfather, Austin Flint, after whom the contemporary Flints
are named, was a physician who died at Leicester, Massachusetts,. in
1850, over ninety years of age. He served as a private soldier and
afterward as a surgeon in the Revolutionary War. The grandfather
of Austin, Jr., was Joseph Henshaw Flint, a distinguished surgeon of
Northampton, Massachusetts, and afterward of Springfield, in the
same State. His father is Austin Flint, now an eminent physician in
New York City. He was born at Petersham, Massachusetts, in 1812,
and graduated M. D. at Harvard, in 1833. He is a voluminous author
and a distinguished practitioner.

AUSTIN FLINT, Jr., was born at Northampton, Massachusetts, March
28, 1836, and his parents removed to Buffalo, New York, in the same
year. He was educated at private schools in that city, and, when
fifteen, he spent a year in the Academy of Leicester, Massachusetts.
He prepared for college at Buffalo, and entered Harvard University
as Freshman in 1852. He left the university in 1853, and spent a year
in the study of civil-engineering. He began the study of medicine
in the spring of 1854 at Buffalo, and attended two courses of lectures
at the medical department of the University of Louisville (1854- 55
and 1855- 56). His taste for physiology was early developed, and he
made some experiments on living animals for Prof. Yandell, of the
Louisville school, while he was a student there. His final course of
lectures was taken at Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia, in 1856-
57, and at the close of the course he graduated. His inaugural thesis
on the "Phenomena of the Capillary Circulation" was honored with
the recommendation to be published, and appeared in the American
Journal of Medical Sciences in July, 1857. It was based upon numer
ous original experiments. He was editor for three years (1857- 60)

104 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the Buffalo Medical Journal, which was founded by his father in
1846, and ultimately transferred to New York ancl merged in the
American Medical Monthly.

In 1858 Dr. Flint was appointed one of the attending surgeons of
the Buffalo City Hospital. The same year he became Professor of
Physiology in the Medical School of Buffalo. In 1859 he removed
with his father, and was appointed Professor of Physiology in the
New York Medical College, delivering a course of lectures in 1859- 60.
In 1860 he received the appointment of Professor of Physiology in
the New Orleans School of Medicine, delivered a course of instruc
tions in 1860- 61, and resigned the position at the breaking out of
the war. While in New Orleans he experimented on alligators,
and developed some important points with reference to the influ
ence of the pneumogastric nerves upon the heart. He also made
some experiments there upon the recurrent sensibility of the anterior
roots of the spinal nerves. He was the first physiologist in this
country to operate upon the spinal cord and the spinal nerves in liv
ing animals. .

In the spring of 1861 Dr. Flint went to Europe, and studied sev
eral months with Charles Robin and Claude Bernard, with the former
of whom he had close friendly and scientific relations, and maintained
a frequent correspondence. Prof. Robin presented his memoir, "Sur
une nouvelle fonction au foie " (" On a New Function of the Liver"),
to the French Academy of Sciences for the Month yon prize without
the knowledge of the author. In 1863 Dr. Flint made some important
experiments upon the blood, employing a new mode of analysis for its
nitrogenized constituents. He was one of the founders of the Bellevue
Hospital Medical College, in 1861, and has been from the first, as he
still is, Professor of Physiology and Secretary and Treasurer of the
Faculty. He was also for eight years Professor and Lecturer on
Physiology in the Long Island College Hospital of Brooklyn.

In 1862 Dr. Flint made some remarkable observations on the ex
cretory function of the liver, published in the American Journal of
the Medical Sciences, in October, 1863 ; translated into French, and
presented by Robin to the French Academy of Sciences for the " Con-
cours Monthyon" and which received honorable mention and a recom
pense to the author of 1,500 francs in 1869. The important discovery
put forth in this memoir was the production of cholesterine in the
physiological wear "of the brain and nervous tissue, the elimination
of cholesterine by the liver, and its discharge in the form of stercorine
in the fasces. It was established that the new substance (stercorine)
results from the transformation of cholesterine in the fasces. The dis
eased condition caused by the retention of cholesterine in the blood
(cholesteraemia) is now recognized as a very important pathological
fact. Dr. Flint s laborious researches and interesting conclusions upon
this subject have been lately confirmed in Germany by experiments

SKETCH OF DR. AUSTIN FLINT, JR. 1O5

in which cholesteraamia has been produced in animals by injection of
cholesterine into the blood.

In 1867, at the request of the Commissioners of Public Charities
and Correction of New York City, Dr. Flint reorganized the dietary
system for the institutions under their charge, including Bellevue Hos
pital, Charity Hospital, Poorhouse, Workhouse, Penitentiary, etc., etc.,
making diet-tables for more than 10,000 persons. In 1871 he made
observations upon Weston, the pedestrian, analyzing his food and
secretions for fifteen days before, during, and after one of his great
walking-exploits. These inquiries help to decide some important
physiological questions.

In 1869 Dr. Flint published an elaborate review of the history of
the discovery of the motor and sensory properties of the roots of the
spinal nerves, in which the discovery was ascribed to Magendie in
stead of to Sir Charles Bell, who has generally been regarded as its
author. This review, originally published in the Journal of Psycho
logical Medicine, New York, in 1868, was translated into French, and
published in Robin s Journal de V anatomie. It produced such an im
pression that it was soon followed by the publication, in the English
Journal of Anatomy, of the original paper of Charles Bell, "Idea of
a New Anatomy of the Brain," which was privately printed (not pub
lished) in 1811. The original manuscript was furnished to the Jour
nal of Anatomy by the widow of Sir Charles Bell. It was upon this
paper that the claims of Charles Bell to the discovery were based ;
and, before its publication in the Journal of Anatomy, it had been
entirely inaccessible.

Claude Bernard has been the eminent advocate of the theory that
the liver is a sugar-producing organ ; but observations upon this sub
ject were discordant, and eminent physiologists contested Bernard s
position. In 1869 Dr. Flint published, in tlie NEW YORK MEDICAL
JOURXAL, a series of experiments upon the " glycogenic function of the
liver," in which he endeavored to harmonize the various conflicting
observations, and is considered by most physiologists to have settled
the question.

In 1866 he announced the publication of the "Physiology of
Man," a work in five volumes, of 500 pages each, and the last volume
was issued in 1874. He printed a little work in 1870 on "Chemical
Examinations of Urine in Disease," which went through several edi
tions. He contributed the articles on gymnastics and pugilism to the
" American Cyclopaedia," was appointed Surgeon-General of the State
of New York by Governor Tilden in 1874, and has recently published
a voluminous " Text-book of Human Physiology." He has also writ
ten much for scientific periodicals and popular journals, and has been
actively engaged in his duties as a physiological teacher.

io6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

EDITOR S TABLE.

THE NEW DEPARTURE AT THE CEN
TENNIAL EXHIBITION.

A 1 r E print the report of Gommis-
VV sioner Beck with on the plan
that has been adopted for the distribu
tion of awards to exhibitors at the Phil
adelphia Exposition. In this matter
the Centennial Commissioners have
taken a new and very important step
in advance of previous practice. The
report is significant, as indicating a
departure from the precedents of all
former international exhibitions in a
fundamental and perhaps the most im
portant feature of their management.
The system of gold medals and special
prizes heretofore adopted has been
abandoned, and articles of exhibition
are to go upon their merits, as deter
mined by competent judges from this
country and abroad, and who will be
responsible to the public for the opin
ions they give by signing their names
to the published reports. This is a vic
tory of honest good sense over former
bad practices, which is most encour
aging, and deserving of the heartiest
commendation.

International expositions are new
things in the world s experience. That
is, they are new, as enormous exten
sions of local fairs and exhibitions
which have been long in vogue. The
primary idea was to bring all kinds of
products together for public inspection
and purchase. The show-element grad
ually became predominant, and the fair
grew into an exhibition. The collection
of rival commodities naturally led to
competition, and this to committees of
judgment or juries, which gave premi
ums for articles of the greatest ex
cellence. Medals of gold, silver, and
bronze, were assigned as testimonials
of excellence in the articles approved.
When the exhibitions grew into their

great international proportions, this old
method of awards was continued. But
it was a very imperfect method, and
its evils came out conspicuously in the
great shows of London, Paris, and Vi
enna. The plan of granting graded
medals is necessarily crude and inade
quate ; for, even if the awards are made
upon the best judgment of the juries,
they tell nothing, and are besides arbi
trary and misleading. The differences
among competing articles, in most
cases, will not be as marked as the
gradation of medals implies; so that
their award will necessarily work in
justice. There may be a score of prod
ucts of the same kind, each, perhaps,
with special merits, and none conspicu
ously preeminent ; so that a gold med
al awarded to one will greatly exagger
ate its claims, and grossly wrong its
rivals.

But this is not all, nor the worst.
Medals become valuable and are eagerly
sought because of the very injustice
they work. To crown a single article,
casts virtual reproach upon all its com
petitors ; and hence the gold medal
which exalts one thing and disparages
all in rivalry with it is striven for with
desperate eagerness by exhibitors on
account of the commercial advantages
that follow. The door is thus opened
to every form of illegitimate influence
that can be brought to bear upon the
judges. The prizes to be won, being
of enormous value, are fought for with
such a reckless disregard of the means
employed that men of integrity often
quit the juries in disgust rather than be
implicated in their corrupt proceedings.
How great the strain must be, in many
cases, is apparent when we reflect that,
if the old system were in operation at the
Philadelphia Exposition, there would
probably be many exhibitors who could

EDITOR S TABLE.

107

afford to pay, each a million dollars, to
secure the gold medal that would place
their articles in advance of all com
petitors. Nor is there anything in re
cent American experiences that would
justify us in expecting an incorruptible
administration of the duties of jurymen.
Even where the distribution of medals
is supplemented and corrected by writ
ten reports the results must be unsatis
factory, for it is of small moment to the
public that the award has been qualified
or contradicted in a printed document.
The verdict of the medal itself will
be held as the important and decisive
thing. Mr. Beckwith, who has not only
had experience of the old practice,
but has carefully studied its general
workings, points out in his report the
inadequacy of the European jury sys
tem and the defectiveness of its results.
Profiting by these failures, the Phila
delphia plan has been organized to
avoid them, and give us more valuable
and trustworthy work.

The first purpose of such a collec
tion of the products of art, science, and
industry, as will be displayed in Phila
delphia, undoubtedly is, that its objects
may be seen and inspected by the pub
lic ; yet the mere gratification of curi
osity by staring at new and strange
things is certainly its lowest advantage.
Such exhibitions are only put to their
best and proper use as means of public
education, in which observers become
inquirers, and get a knowledge of the
true qualities and characters of the
things exhibited. The value of the dis
play will be in proportion to its intelli
gent appreciation, and the management
of the affair must be judged by the effi
ciency and completeness of the means
adopted to instruct the public in re
gard to it. To this end, the first step
was to get rid of the misguiding and
vicious system of medals, and then to
secure capable men to furnish discrim
inating and responsible reports. It is
well for the national honor and for
wholesome public influence that the
most efficient measures have been taken

to put things for once upon their naked
and sterling merits. The selection of a
hundred able experts from abroad, with
a hundred more to be furnished by this
country as judges, who are to be paid
their personal expenses, and who are
committed by their reputations to give
honest and competent verdicts on the
intrinsic and comparative merits of ob
jects exhibited the reports to be pub
lished for the use of visitors at the ear
liest practicable moment is a measure
on the part of the commissioners at
once so sensible and so just that it
raises some perplexity as to how it has
been brought about. The old method
of proceeding is so rooted in universal
usage, and so congenial with the fierce
competitive spirit of American business,
that we cannot for a moment suppose
it has failed to make its best fight
against this innovation. That it should
have been beaten, and a greatly supe
rior method adopted by the commis
sioners, is alike unexpected and a cause
of devout gratitude.

But the policy initiated at Philadel
phia has a still further significant It
is not merely a transient expedient in
the tactics of a great show, but it de
clares a principle of wide and perma
nent application in society. Its adop
tion strikes a blow at the all -prevailing
habit of offering prizes as artificial
stimulants to effort, instead of making
the intrinsic excellence of work and its
intelligent appreciation the true im
pulse of exertion and enterprise. Com
petitions are inflamed in all directions
by sordid and selfish temptations, but
it is in education that the system of ex
trinsic rewards and factitious provoca
tions is carried to the greatest extent,
and leads to the most mischievous re
sults. The practice of giving prizes in
schools is vicious as substituting spu
rious and unworthy motives to exertion,
where the very object is to form the
character by bringing generous and en
nobling incitements into habitual and
controlling exercise. To beat an an
tagonist, and win a medal or a purse,

io8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is a vulgar and sordid inducement to
study, and convicts the school that re
sorts to it of inefficiency in its legiti
mate and most essential work. It is,
moreover, an injurious agency in edu
cation, as it is constantly used to stim
ulate students in false directions, and
to the excessive cultivation of unim
portant subjects. Our education is in
a state of chaos in regard to the rela
tive values of different kinds of knowl
edge. The waste of time and effort
over comparatively worthless studies is
something quite appalling, and it is
everywhere aggravated by plying schol
ars with premiums for special attain
ments. Rich blockheads, with narrow
notions and tenacious crotchets, smit
ten with the vanity of becoming public
benefactors, go into the schools and
found prizes and medals which set
the students to racing in any direction
which the whim or caprice of the donor
may indicate. This evil is confessed,
and has become so glaring that some
institutions have wisely put a stop to
such interference. But, as it is driven
frorn^he schools, it is taken up by out
siders, as we have seen in the intercol
legiate contests that have lately come
into vogue. Against this whole system
the Philadelphia policy, as presented in
Mr. Beckwith s report, is a tacit but
powerful protest. To get things upon
their real merits is a victory anywhere
to do this upon a great, unprecedent
ed national occasion is a triumph but
there is no reason for adopting the prin
ciple in an exhibition of the products of
manufacture that will not apply with
increasing force to the management of
educational establishments.

JUDGE DALY S ADDRESS.

IT is not easy to deal with the an
nual presidential addresses of Charles P.
Daly before the Geographical Society.
They are so fresh, readable, and full of
novel and instructive matter, that there
is a temptation to reprint them bodily.
We have formerly spoiled them by sum

marizing; this year we publish in full
the introductory portion, in which he
glances at the achievements of geo
graphical explorers during the third
quarter of the nineteenth century end
ing in 1875, and shows what the state
of things was at the beginning of that
age, and what it is now. The main
portion of the address, however, is de
voted to an account of the researches,
discoveries, and geographical work, of
the past year. We are tempted to
make some further use of Judge Daly s
labors, which may incite our readers to
procure the full address and read it
themselves. Beginning with what has
been done in our own country, Presi
dent Daly suras up the results of the
various exploring expeditions and sur
veys undertaken or aided by the Gov
ernment, in the great Western, North
western, and Southwestern tracts of
the continent. The results are varied
and interesting. In the prehistoric sec
tion, on the ancient inhabitants of
America, the evidence has been much
extended in regard to the life of the
old race of mound-builders. In refer
ence to the antiquity of man on this
continent, it is remarked :

" Prof. J. D. Whitney, from the remains
found by him in California, is of the opinion
that man existed there as long ago as the
Tertiary period ; that he was then the maker
of instruments for grinding corn, as well as
other implements of stone, and, as far as the
examination of the imperfect skull which
was found warrants a conclusion, that ho
was, at that remote period, the same ana
tomically that he is now. These discoveries
of Prof. Whitney s go to show that man ex
isted during the Glacial epoch, which is con
firmed after seven years examination of the
deposits in the Victoria Cave, in England,
and by recent discoveries in the inter-glacial
coal-beds of Switzerland. The Glacial epoch
is computed by Mr. Croll, in his recent work,
to have ended, about 80,000 years ago ; and
Mr. Croll is not only one of the best au
thorities, but the one whose estimate of the
time is the lowest."

The work of arctic exploration con
tinues to be vigorously pushed, and with
promising results. A point of interest

EDITOR S TABLE.

109

is, that the English and German geog
raphers have abandoned the routes
they formerly advocated, and have,
with great unanimity, united in recom
mending that the English expedition
which left last June, under the com
mand of Captain Nares, should go
through Smith s Sound, following up
the track of Kane, Hayes, and Hall
the route that has been uniformly
urged by the American Geographical
Society as the best. At a crowded
meeting of the Royal Geographical So
ciety, at which the officers of the expe
dition and most of the distinguished
arctic explorers were present, the
American theory of polar approach
was heartily commended :

" Admiral Omraanny, formerly a promi
nent opponent of the route now adopted,
also said that England must be grateful to
her American cousins, who had cleared the
way by successful operations through Smith
Sound. When it is remembered that our
early efforts in this direction were ignored,
that the name of Grinnell Land, in Welling
ton Channel, was at first omitted upon Eng
lish maps, and the name of a subsequent
English explorer substituted, that our route
by the way of Smith Sound received little
support except from Admiral Sherard Os-
born, Admiral Ingletield, and Mr. Clements
R. Markham, this change of opinion and
hearty recognition now are very gratifying,
especially to our member, Dr. Hayes, the
only one of our exploring commanders in
the Arctic who is now alive."

To show that, in this boasted scien
tific age, geographical notions are still
entertained as crude as those held five
hundred years ago, Judge Daly gives
an account of some of the theories that
are still seriously advocated. One of
these is described as follows :

"About the year 1819, Captain J. C.
Symmes, an officer of the regular Army of
the United States, advanced a theory, to the
propagation of which he devoted the re
mainder of his life, that the earth was hol
low, was inhabited within, and had an
opening at the pole, which became known
throughout the country as Symmes s Hole.
He pressed the subject upon Congress, urged
an expedition to the pole to test his theory,

and a Russian gentleman is said to have
offered to fit one out if Symmes would con
duct it under the auspices of Russia, which
the captain declined, on the ground that the
honor of establishing the theory should be
long to the United States. He went over
the country, delivering lectures in support
of this theory, in which he firmly believed
to the day of his death. Ilis son, now an
old man, has revived it, and is advocating
it, as his father did, by delivering public
lectures. The father s theory was, that this
hole or opening in the Arctic was about one
thousand miles in diameter, and somewhat
wider at the Antarctic ; and now that we
have reached within five hundred miles of
the arctic pole, about half of the assumed
diameter of the supposed hole, without any
indication so far of its existence, the son be^
lieves that if Captain Hall hud got several
degrees farther north he would have found
evidence of the truth of the theory.

" Captain Hall startled us at the reception
given to him and his officers by this Society,
before the departure of the Polaris, by an
nouncing publicly to us his belief in the ex
istence of this hole, and of his determination
to go in pursuit of it ; a belief which, being
an uneducated man, and but little acquainted
with the geography of the Arctic, was firmly
fixed in his mind. It was in pursuit of this
supposed hole that he meant to attempt the
passage to the pole by the way of *oues s
Sound. 1 pointed out to him the impractica
bility of an attempt through Jones s Sound,
and urged him to go as Kane and Hayes had
done, by the way of Smith Sound, which
course he ultimately adopted when advised
to the same effect by Baron van Otten of the
Swedish Expedition, whom he met during
his voyage at Holsteinberg in Davis Strait.

" In a letter put forth last February, by
Mr. Symmes, he not only argues that the
earth is hollow, but that it has as much in
habitable surface within as without. He
imagines that the inside is inhabited by
human beings who are the progenitors of the
white race, now upon the outer surface, and
that there are apertures at the poles four or
more hundred miles in diameter. This re
calls the belief as to the cause of the earth s
motion in the middle ages, when it became
apparent from the researches of Copernicus
and Galileo that it revolved upon its a^is,
which accounted for the motion by suppos
ing that the interior of the earth was hollow,
and was the place to which the damned were
condemned, who produced the motion by
their continual attempts to climb up the in
side of this hollow ball in their fruitless

110

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

efforts to get out. A woodcut representing
this strange belief will be found in an old
cosmography in our library."

Meteorological and earthquake dis
turbances of the past year are noted ;
and, with an account of the voyage of
the Challenger and the important re
sults attained by it, Judge Daly passes
to the progress of geographical work in
Europe, and gives an instructive ac
count of the drainage of the Zuyder Zee
now undertaken by the people of Hol
land, who have become masters of hy
draulics by necessity, as their whole
country lies twelve feet below the level
of the sea. They drained the Haarlem
Lake, twelve miles long, seven miles
wide, and fourteen feet deep, and cov
ered it with thriving farms and villages,
and were so pleased with tke specula
tion that they have now undertaken to
drain off the Zuyder Zee, which em
braces an area of 759 square miles, and
by which they propose to add six per
cent, of fertile land to the total area of
the country. It is a dull waste of half-
navigable waters with low, marshy bor
ders. J They are first to construct an
immense dike 1G4 feet wide at the bot
tom of the sea, and rising to a height of
twenty-six feet above it, making a total
length of wall, near the narrow opening
of the sea, twenty-five statute miles.
The inclosed area will be divided into
squares, and pumped out at an expense
of $48,000,000, or about $100 an acre.
Our Yankees, who are being drowned
by the score in the overflow of their
ponds, might learn something about
dams from these Dutchmen.

The president next attacks Asia,
and gives us a great deal of valuable in
formation of the results of geographical
inquiry in various portions of its im
mense area, of which the following has
a very human interest :

u Mr, Bond, of the Indian Trigonometrical
Survey, discovered two of the wild dwarfish
race who live in the hill -jungles of the West
ern Galitz, to the southwest of the Palini
Hills, a race which, though often heard of, no
trace of had previously been found by the sur

vey. A man and a woman were discovered
The man was four feet six inches high, and.
26i inches about the chest. He had a round
head with coarse, black, woolly hair and
dark-brown skin, a forehead low and slightly
retreating, the lower part of the face project
ing like that of a monkey, with thick lips,
protruding about an inch beyond his nose ;
a comparatively long body fur his size, with
short, bandy legs, and arms extending almost
to his knees. The hands and fingers were so
contracted that they could not be made to
stretch out straight and fiat. The palms and
fingers Were covered with a thick skin, par
ticularly the tips of the fingers, the nails be
ing small and imperfect, and the feet broad
and thick-skinned all over. He had a gray
ish-white, scanty, coarse mustache like bris
tles, but no beard. The woman, who was
about of the same size, was of yellow tint,
with long, black, straight hair, and features
well formed as contrasted with those of the
man, there being no difference between her
appearance and that of the common women
of that part of the country. She had an
agreeable expression, was well developed
and modest. Their simple dress was a loose
cloth, and, though they ate flesh, they lived
chiefly on roots and honey. They have no
fixed dwelling-places, but sleep between
rocks, or in caves, near which they happen
to be at night, when they light a fire and
cook what they have collected during the
day, maintaining the fire during the night for
warmth, and to keep off wild animals. Their
religion, such as they have, is the worship of
certain local divinities of the forest. This is
a new pygmy race, resembling the African
Obongos of Du Chaillu, the Akkas of
Schweinfurth, and the Dokos of Dr. Krapf,
in their size, appearance and habits."

Africa is, however, now the great
point of assault by geographical explor
ers, and there oome the most wonderful
revelations regarding the fertility and
beauty of various of its extensive re
gions, with curious descriptions of its
government and peoples. Dr. Nachti-
gal, describing Wadai, in Northeast Af
rica

"Fixes the population of the country at
about two and a half millions, and says that
the surface elevation of the land is from
west to east, with an elevation of from 1,000
to 1,500 feet above the sea-level. Numerous
small streams flow from the eastern heights,
falling into the two principal rivers, the
Kafa and Peaka. The country is divided

EDITOR S TABLE.

111

into seven provinces; the religion is Mo
hammedan, and the king, whose power is
arbitrary, is looked upon as a sort of divini
ty. The king s harem consists of about 500
wives, and all his sons, except the heir to
the throne, are blinded with hot irons, a
duty performed by the king of the smiths,
sdio is also the surgeon of the harem. The
people are skillful workers in iron, but given
to the drinking of an intoxicating beer, a
practice which great eiforts are made to re
press. Spies are extensively employed for
that purpose, and any man upon whose
premises the forbidden liquor is found is
punished by having his wife s head shaved.
The king has an army of 40,000 infantry and
6,000 cavalry, and the country is heavily
taxed for the support of the king and his
expensive government."

Judge Daly quietly compares our
own u best Government on the face of
the earth " with one of these African
governments, and finds the compari
son "not complimentary to our intelli
gence." Here is the passage :

" The Egyptian Geographical Society,
under the presidency of Dr. G. Schweinfurth,
the distinguished African explorer, was es
tablished this year at Cairo, through the
liberality of the Khedive, consisting of 300
members, with an annual income of $T,000.
A substantial portion of this income is
granted by the Government in view of the
advantages to the nation of the labors of
the Geographical Society, as is the case with
several of the leading Geographical Societies
of Europe. But it would be hard to con
vince our Government of the utility of aid
ing, by pecuniary means, our Society, the
only one in this country, when it would not
even incur the expense of sending a com
missioner to the late great Geographical
Congress at Paris, and to our shame we were
the only civilized nation that was unrepre
sented in the exposition. It is not compli
mentary to our intelligence and our cosmo
politan relations to the world, of which we
form so important a part, that we have a
Government that takes no interest in the
advance of civilization, and of the trade,
commerce, and industry of the world at
large, through geographical exploration and
discovery, the means by which it has been
chiefly advanced, from the dawn of civiliza
tion to the present time. It was not the
fault of this Society that our country was
not represented in the exposition, for ear
nest efforts were made by us n well ae by the

French minister, but were met by the reply
that the Congress in Paris was the affair of
a private society, which was not the view
taken by the other civilized nations, who
made liberal grants of money for the success
of an undertaking in which the whole world
was interested. With our limited means,
all that we could do was to send a delega
tion, as nothing could be received for ex
hibition except under the charge of a com
missioner of the government of the country
from which it was sent. If the gentlemen
charged with the administration of our Gov
ernment read the frequent expressions of
surprise that I have read in the various ac
counts written of the exposition, at the ab
sence of any representation from the United
States, they would not, I think, be very
much impressed with the wisdom and policy
of the exceptional position in which they
placed our country and people. This was
not a case in which we could afford to be in
different, as we do not constitute the whole
world."

THE "ACADEMY" FOR AMERICANS.

WE had occasion some time ago to
refer to the unscrupulous critical spirit
which animates a London weekly called
the Academy, a periodical established
and conducted on the principle of bully
ing itself into notice by copying and
exaggerating the most arbitrary feat
ures of British journalism. A special
effort has been made to push the cir
culation of the Academy in this country,
which makes it proper to point out the
policy it has adopted toward American
as well as English authors. A little
American book on botany was repub-
lished in London, and attacked by the
Academy in the most vicious way. The
criticism was a string of the grossest
misrepresentations, by which the whole
character of the book was falsified and
libeled. Its author happened to be in
London at the time, and wrote a letter
to the editor of the Academy, exposing
the character of its criticism. The
editor refused to print it, and the author
was compelled to seek another channel
to get the true state of the case before
the public. The letter declined by the
Academy was printed by the Examiner.

1 12

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A similar thing has just been done
again. Max Miiller was allowed to
use the Academy columns to abuse and
misrepresent Prof. Whitney, of Yale
College, in matters of philology. The
American linguist replied to these
assaults in a letter to the Academy,
which again its editor refused to print,
and it found publicity, as before,
through the hospitable pages of the
Examiner. And this difference of fair
ness between the two journals goes
along with other differences which will
be of interest to American readers;
for, while the Academy is character
ized by the amount of its pedantic rub
bish and scholarly trumpery, suited to
the learned drones of Oxford and Cam
bridge, the Examiner addresses itself
more to the living questions of the
day, and discusses subjects of universal
interest, with an ability and indepen
dence that may commend it to Ameri
can readers desiring an English weekly.

LITERARY NOTICES.

THE UNSEEN WORLD, AND OTHER ESSAYS. By
JOHN FISKE, M. A. LL. B. Pp. 349.
Price $2. J. R. Osgood & Co.

To say that this volume is by the author
of the "Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy"
will be at once to commend it to a large
circle of readers ; but as a series of inter
esting papers on a wide variety of topics,
scientific, philosophic, artistic, historical,
and critical, it will be commended to many
who have not been attracted to the earlier and
more solid publication. Most of the articles
of the volume will be remembered as they
appeared in the periodicals ; admirable in
style, bold in thought, and rich in scholarly
erudition. Mr. Fiske has views of his own
which he works out with freedom, and often
with great beauty and force of statement.

The volume takes its name from the first
two essays, which lately appeared in the
Atlantic Monthly, and were read with inter
est by many thoughtful people. They start
from the speculations of a recent book en
titled "The Unseen Universe," which broke
into a somewhat new field of ingenious sci

entific conjecture, and was read with an
eager but rather perplexed curiosity by
those who are fond of transcendental in
quiries. This work has been already no
ticed in the MONTHLY, and is chiefly impor
tant as an effort by thoroughly disciplined
scientific men to arrive at the conception
of immortality and a realm of future spirit
ual life from the scientific point of view.
Mr. Fiske is in sympathy with this aspira
tion, but deals with the problem by his own
methods, and perhaps in an abler way than
the authors who opened the discussion.
We cannot here reproduce his views, which
are only to be understood by a careful pe
rusal of the essays in which they are pre
sented.

But, while cordially recommending this
volume as a whole, we must except the re
view of Draper s " History of the Conflict
between Religion and Science," which we
think somewhat unworthy the author. Mr.
Fiske adopts a deprecatory tone in speak
ing of Draper s books, which is construed
by the newspapers into contempt which
jumps with public prejudice, and is quite to
be expected from certain quarters ; but for
which he gives us no satisfactory reasons.

He charges Dr. Draper with superficiality
and mental idiosyncrasy, in not understand
ing Rome ; in not appreciating Greece ; ia
hostility to the Catholic Church ; in over
rating semi-barbarous civilizations, "and
above all an undiscriminating admiration
for everything, great or small, that has ever
worn the garb of Islam, or been associated
with the career of the Saracens." But, after
indulging in a little sarcasm at Dr. Draper s
admiration of the "turbaned sage," Mr.
Fiske finds himself compelled to say :

" Speaking briefly with regard to this matter,
we may freely admit that the work done by the
Arabs, in scientific inquiry as well as in the mak
ing of events, was very considerable. It was
a work, too, the value of which is not common
ly appreciated in the accounts of European his
tory written for the general reader, and we have
no disposition to find fault with Dr. Draper for
describing it with enth usiasm. The philoso
phers of Bagdad and Cordova did excellent ser
vice in keeping alive the traditions of Greek phys
ical inquiry at a time when Christian thinkers
were too exclusively occupied with transcenden
tal speculations in theology and logic. In some de
partments, as in chemistry and astronomy, they
made original discoveries of considerable value ;
and If we turn from abstract knowledge to the

LITERARY NOTICES.

arts of life, it cannot be denied that the mediae
val Mussulmans had reached a higher plane of
material comfort than their Christian contem
poraries. In short, the work of all kinds done by
these people would furnish the judicious advo
cate of the claims of the Semitic race with ma
terials for a pleasing and instructive picture."

Very well ; these are facts of some im
portance, but who had brought them out
for public appreciation before Dr. Draper
published his " History of the Intellectual
Development of Europe ? " And, although
Mr. Fiske may differ from him in regard to
the historical import of Arabian science, we
fail to see any occasion for the indulgence
of sneering and disparagement.

And now in regard to the " Conflict."
The theologians of all ilks, who have taken
up Dr. Draper s recent book, are agreed that
it is a piece of futility because there is real
ly no such conflict as that of which he pre
tends to have given the history. Messrs.
Brownson, Hill, Washburn, Deems, and Co.,
are vehement in asserting the groundless
ness and absurdity of Dr. Draper s assump
tion ; and now, as if he had been sitting
under the droppings of the Hippodrome,
Mr. Fiske cordially acquiesces in the ardent
views of these gentlemen. He says of Dr.
Draper : " When he enlarges on the trite
story of Galileo and alludes to the more
modern quarrel between the Church and
geologists, and does this in the belief that
he is thereby illustrating an antagonism be
tween Religion and Science, it is obvious
that he identifies the cause of the anti-
geologists and the persecutors of Galileo
with the cause of Religion. The word re
ligion is to him a symbol which stands for
unenlightened bigotry or narrow-minded un
willingness to look facts in the face. . . .
It is, nevertheless, a very superficial con
ception, and no book which is vitiated by
it can have much philosophic value. . . .
Since, then, the scientific innovator does
not, either voluntarily or involuntarily, at
tack religion, it follows that there can be no
such conflict as that of which Dr. Draper
has undertaken to write the history. The
real contest is between one phase of science
and another." This will hardly do. Mr.
Fiske says that no book vitiated by this
superficial conception can have much philo
sophic value. But, in the " First Principles "
of Herbert Spencer, on page 11, we read :
VOL. ix. 8

"Of all antagonisms of belief, the oldest,
the widest, the most profound, and the most
important, is that between religion and science.
It commenced when the recognition of the sim
plest uniformities in surrounding things set a
limit to the previous universal fetichism. It
shows itself everywhere throughout the domain
of human knowledge, affecting men s interpre
tations alike of the simplest mechanical acci
dents and of the most complicated events in the
histories of nations. It has its roots deep down
in the diverse habits of thought of different
orders of minds. And the conflicting concep
tions of Nature and life which these diverse
habits of thought severally generate, influence
for good or ill the tone of feeling and the daily
conduct. An unceasing battle of opinion like
this, which has been carried on throughout all
ages, under the banners of religion and science/
etc.

Mr. Spencer, of course, holds to the
possibility of an ultimate reconciliation be
tween Religion and Science, but he does not
commit the folly of denying their past and
present antagonism. Dr. Draper has made
no attempt to deal with the philosophy of
the subject, and he is not to be judged by
that standard. Assuming, as Spencer has
done, that it is a fact, and a fact of vast
significance, he is the first to have given us
its history ; and, whatever opinion may be
entertained regarding the manner of its ex
ecution, he had a valid theme, and deals
with veritable phenomena. And, had his
manner of doing the work been more open
to attack, we should probably have heard a
good deal less about the baselessness of the
antagonism which he has described.

The point of contention is as to what
constitutes religion. Dr. Draper was justi
fied in taking the term in its current sig
nificance as comprehending the general doc
trines and policy of religious organizations.
That sects differ, and eat each other up in
their denials of dogmas, was nothing to
him. And, though they should all agree
at last as to what religion is, and discredit
the total affirmations of past theology, the
historical aspects of the case will remain the
same. He was not called upon to settle
sectarian disputes, or to find out that de
nomination which possesses the true faith.
Mr. Fiske complains of him for not defining
this element of his thesis, and he proceeds
to do it himself, as follows : " All animals
seek for fullness of life ; but in civilized
man this craving has acquired a moral sig
nificance, and has become a spiritual aspira-

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tion ; and this emotional tendency, more or
less strong in the human race, we call reli
gious feeling or religion." Admirable ! but
how far accepted? We hope that the
agreement of Messrs. Brownson, Hill, Wash-
burn, Deems, Fiske, and Co., in denouncing
the groundlessness of the " conflict," will
not be construed as implying any agree
ment among the parties as to what religion
is. If these gentlemen will get together and
settle the point, an important step will be
gained ; and THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY
will gladly pay the expenses of a convention
of reasonable length for such a purpose, but
we stipulate not to foot the bills until they
reach an agreement.

A SHORT HISTORY OF NATURAL SCIENCE AND
OF THE PROGRESS OF DISCOVERY FROM THE
TIME OF THE GREEKS TO THE PRESENT
DAY. For the Use of Schools and Young
Persons. With Illustrations. Pp. 467.
D. Appleton & Co. Price, $2.

WE called attention recently to the in
fluence of the Centennial in stimulating the
study of political history, and expressed
the hope that the gathering together of the
products of art, science, and industry, of
all nations, at the Great Exhibition in
Philadelphia, would have the effect of pro
moting the historical study of this class
of subjects in American schools. It was
pointed out that this line of literature has
been greatly neglected, and is so backward
that students desiring to attend to it would
be much perplexed to find suitable text
books for the purpose. An important and
very successful step has, however, been tak
en to supply this deficiency. The work
now published under the above title, con
sidering that it is the first attempt to treat
the history of science in a brief and popular
way for educational purposes, is of very su
perior merit. We took it up with doubt,
we read it with a growing interest, and cor
dially recommend it both for general read
ing and as a school-book. The authoress
has made no scientific discoveries ; and we
question if there are many who have done
so who could make so judicious a compend
of general scientific history as she has done.
But, if she has not made a name as an ex
plorer, she has been a careful student of
science, and, having been for many years
secretary to the late Sir Charles Lyell, and

brought into contact with many of the
leading scientific men of the day, she had
peculiar opportunities of qualifying her
self for the task of writing a popular scien
tific history. Her style is clear and di
rect, and her power of explanation we think
something quite unusual, while the propor
tions in which the subjects are treated evince
good artistic judgment in the work of book-
making. Illustrations are introduced with
discretion, to help the text, and brief bio
graphical notices are interspersed which
give interest to the course of the* narra
tive, and the exposition of scientific work.
The book is, moreover, essentially ac
curate and trustworthy ; and executed with
far more faithfulness than is usual in com
pilations. Miss Buckley s volume ought to
be unhesitatingly and extensively adopted
in our schools, and kept there until super
seded by a better, which we suspect will
not be very soon. We do not recommend
it to be memorized, or made a matter of
formal recitation, so much as for a reading-
book to be gone over by suitable classes,
with such questions and suggestions as an
intelligent teacher can impart. So used,
its influence in schools cannot be otherwise
than valuable.

DISEASES OF MODERN LIFE. By B. W.

RICHARDSON, M. D., F. R. S. Pp. 520.

New York : D. Appleton & Co. Price,

$2.

WE have already given some excerpts
from advance-sheets of this book, which is
just issued. Dr. Richardson was led to the
treatment of the subject by having first
given special attention to the diseases of
overworked men. He printed some essays
on this topic, and followed them by others
on diseases induced by various occupations
and by indulgence in the use of alcohol
and tobacco. These articles, having under
gone revision and considerable extension,
make up the present volume. The author
carefully abstains from infringing upon
the proper art of curing disease which be
longs to the medical practitioner, and con
fines himself mainly to the symptoms and
causes of modern maladies, and to hints
toward their prevention. While the book
will not be without value to physicians, it
is carefully adapted to the wants and capa
city of general readers. We have simply

LITERARY NOTICES.

to say that this volume is, in a high degree
both interesting and useful. It presents in
a pleasant form, and with pointed applica
tions, the sort of information that shoulc
be most widely distributed, and abounds in
facts and suggestions of importance that
cannot be readily obtained elsewhere.

FLORAL DECORATIONS FOR THE DWELLING
HOUSE. A Practical Guide to the Home
Arrangement of Plants and Flowers.
By ANNIE HASSARD. American edition,
revised. With many Illustrations. Pp
166. New York : Macmillan & Co.
Price, $1.50.

THIS little book, written by a person
who evidently understands fully the art of
floral decoration, will be found helpfully
suggestive to all those who wish to make
flowers accessory to the attractiveness of
their homes.

The author aims, by both illustration
and statement, to render the principles un
derlying her art so plain that any woman
may tastefully and successfully decorate her
table, adorn her drawing-room, and in some
sense, by the use of plants around her win
dows and balconies, bring to the interior of
home not only the beauty but the simple
delights of the external garden. The whole
subject of table-decoration, including forms
of stands and vases, the arrangement of
fruit and flowers, the adjustment of these
to the light, materials and means for keep
ing flowers fresh, as well as window-gar
dening, hanging baskets, grouping of plants,
wreaths, crosses, and even button-hole bou
quets, find very instructive treatment in this
little volume. It is shown how the simplest
available materials ferns, grasses, autumn
leaves no less than the richest products of
the florist s art, may serve, in the hands of
the skillful manipulator, to produce most
graceful effects.

The chromatic principles of grouping
are indicated in the following extract :

" In producing harmonious contrasts of col
ors, it should be remembered that there are only
three primary colors red, blue, and yellow.
From these arise what are called the binary or
secondary colors, namely, orange, composed of
yellow and red ; purple, composed of blue and
red; and green, composed of yellow and blue.
These form contrasting colors to the primary
three with which they are in harmonious oppo
sition, as the orange with blue, purple with yel
low, and green with red. From the combina

tion with these secondary colors arise three
tertiary colors olive, from purple and green ;
citron, from green and orange; and russet
from orange and purple. These tertiary colors
harmonize with the primaries, as they stand in
the relation of neutral tints to them, but are in
harmonious opposition to the secondaries from
which they are combined. Red, blue, and yel
low, harmonize with each other, and they may
be placed in juxtaposition, but purple should
not be near red or blue, as it is composed of
these two colors, the rule being that no primary
color should be brought into contact with a
secondary of which itself is a component part ;
nor any secondary color brought into contact
with a tertiary color of which it is a component
part."

MEMOIR AND CORRESPONDENCE OP CAROLINE
HERSCHEL. By Mrs. JOHN HERSCHEL.
With Portraits. Pp. 355. New York :
D. Appleton & Co. Price, $1.75.

THIS is one of the most fresh and charm
ing volumes that has come from the press
in many a day. It is of such unique and
special attraction that we have drawn upon
it for the materials of two articles in the
MONTHLY, which cannot fail to incite the
reader to desire the perusal of the whole
book. And it will amply repay the most
careful reading. Aside from the interest
at every step in the life of the remarkable
woman who tells her own story in such a
vivid and racy way, this biography will
have permanent value as connected with
the rise of modern sidereal astronomy, and
as throwing light upon the characteristics
of an illustrious scientific family. Tele
scopes, new planets, comets, double stars,
and nebulae, are always attractive things to
read about, but what engages us most in-
ently with these pages is that they overflow
with human nature from beginning to end.

ANALYTICAL PROCESSES ; OR, THE PRIMARY
PRINCIPLE OP PHILOSOPHY. By WIL
LIAM I. GILL, A. M. Pp. 483" New
York : The Authors Publishing Com
pany. Price, $2.

THE author of this book made his mark
as an acute and independent thinker by
the publication, a year or two since, of a
volume called " Evolution and Progress."
The present volume is the first of a series,
each complete in itself, in which a fresh at
tempt will be made to construct a philoso
phy. No intimation is given as to what
will be its character, the present book be
ing occupied entirely with the foundation,

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and with only one element of that the pri- i
mary principle of all reasoning. This prin
ciple the author finds in the law of ndn-
contradiction, which simply says to system-
makers, " Be consistent, or do not contradict
yourselves." Obvious as this principle is,
we are told that in all ages it has been ac
cepted or rejected alternately according to
the exigencies of philosophical speculation,
having been nullified by theologians and
philosophers from Augustine to Kant. It
therefore needs reelucidation, to which Mr.
Gill has devoted his volume. The book
gives abundant scope for the exercise of
philosophical genius, in which its author is
not wanting. Our most eminent metaphysi
cians, as Drs. McCosh and Anderson, recog
nize his strong claims as a thinker, and we
have no doubt his volume will attract the
attention of serious students, and prove a
valuable addition to American philosophi
cal literature.

MILITARY MAP OF THE INDIAN TERRITORY.

Compiled by First - Lieutenant E. H.

KUFFNER, of the Engineers.

THIS valuable map, the preparation of
which has occupied Lieutenant Ruffner and
Mr. Ado Hunnius, draughtsman and en
graver, for some three years, is based on
Government and railroad surveys, previous
ly-published maps, military surveys and
reconnoissances, etc. The scale is made
large enough for marching-purposes, and
the topographical details are such as are
needed in directing military movements.
The task of compiling such a map as this
of the Indian Territory is one that involves
an enormous amount of labor, and it ap
pears to have been performed with consci
entious fidelity by Lieutenant Ruffner. The
draughtsman s work is also deserving of
great^ credit. The map is on the scale of
1 : 500,000.

WE have received the initial number of
The Home Scientist, published at Wads
worth, Ohio. The Home Scientist is a month
ly, eight-page journal, in quarto, devoted tc
the diffusion of popular scientific knowledge
This first number, both in its original an(
hi its selected matter, shows evidence of
competent editorship. We wish it success
J. A. Clark, publisher. Terms, $1 per an
num.

THE POLYTECHNIC REVIEW. We have
eceived from the publishers the first num-
er of a monthly periodical bearing the
ibove title. In form it is a large quarto of
welve pages, tastefully printed on fine pa
yer. The Review is designed to chronicle
and illustrate the progress of science as ap-
ilied to the useful arts, such as engineering
n all its branches civil, mechanical, naval,
military, and sanitary ; gas and water sup-
>ly, and sewerage ; chemical technology,
with particular reference to mining, metal-
urgy, and manufacturing chemical indus-
;ries ; manufactures in general, and the me
chanic arts. That the Polytechnic Review
will be conducted with energy and ability,
the names of the editors, William H. Wall,
Ph. D., and Robert Grimshaw, Ph. D., are a
sufficient guarantee. Philadelphia: Pub
lished by the editors, 119 South Fourth
Street. $3 per annum.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

Geological Survey of Alabama. Report
of Progress for 1875. By Eugene A. Smith,
Ph.D. Montgomery, Alabama, 1876. Pp.
212.

Memoirs of the Peabody Academy of
Science, vol. i., No. iv. Fresh-Water Shell
Mounds of the St. John s River, Florida.
By Jeffries Wyman, Salem, Massachusetts.
Pp. 87.

Statistics of Births, Marriages, and
Deaths, in the City of Philadelphia for the
Year 1874. Compiled by William H. Ford,
M. D. Philadelphia, 1875. Pp. 133.

Experiments with the Alleged New
Force. By George M. Beard, A. M., M. D.,
New York, 1876. Pp. 28.

Report of the Health-Officer of the City
of Oakland, California, 1875. By George E.
Sherman, M. D. Oakland, 1876. Pp. 32.

Reports of the Trustees and Superin
tendent of the Butler Hospital for the In
sane, Providence, 1876. Pp. 37.

Immobility or Closure of the Jaw, with
Report of Cases. By W. F. Westmoreland,
M. D. Atlanta, Georgia, 1875. Pp. 10.

The Public-School Question as under-
derstood by a Catholic-American Citizen

MISCELLANY.

and by a Liberal American Citizen. By
Bishop McQuaid and Francis E. Abbott.
Boston, 1876. Pp. 100.

Historical Sketch of the Columbus
Public Schools. Columbus, Ohio. Pp. 31.

An Exposition and Defense of Homoe
opathy. By George Pyborn, M. D. George
town, Colorado, 1876. Pp. 36.

Legal Chemistry, A Guide to the Detec
tion of Poisons, Examination of Stains,
etc., as applied to Chemical Jurisprudence.
By A. Naguet. Translated by J. P. Batter-
shall, Nat. Sc. D., with a Preface by C. F.
Chandler, Ph. D., M. D., LL. D. New York :
D. Van Nostrand, 1876. Pp. 178. Price,
$2.

Life Histories of the Birds of Eastern
Pennsylvania. By Thomas G. Gentry. In
Two Volumes. Vol. i. Philadelphia, 1876.
Pp. 399.

Prehistoric Man. By Daniel Wilson,
LL. D., F. R. S. E. In Two Volumes. Lon
don: Macmillan & Co., 1826. Pp. 391 and
401. Price, $12.

Report of the Chief Signal-Officer to
the Secretary of War for the Year 1875.
By Albert J. Meyer. Pp. 475. With nu
merous Maps.

Exercises in Electrical and Magnetic
Measurement. By R. E. Day, M. A. Lon
don : Longmans, Green & Co., 1876. Pp.
120.

Daily Bulletin of Weather Reports, Sig
nal Service of the United States Army for
April, 1875. Pp. 185.

Man a Spirit only. By R. L. Farns-
worth. Pp. 48. St. Paul: Pioneer Press
print.

Claims of Capital. By William Brown.
Pp. 36. Montreal : J. Lovell.

Uses of a Topographical Survey of New
York State. By J. T. Gardner. Pp. 14.
New York: American Geographical Soci
ety.

Product of the Action of Potassium on
Ethyl Succinate. By I. Remsen. Pp. 10.
From American Journal of Science.

Hospital and Private Treatment of Oph
thalmia Neonatorum. By S. C. Ayres, M. D.
Pp. 8. From Lancet and Observer.

Climate in its Sanitary Relations to
Medicine. By A. S. Baldwin, M. D. Pp.
14. Jacksonville, Fla. : Semi-Tropical print.

Report on Working- Women s Protec
tive Union (1876). Pp. 16. New York:
W. W. P. Union.

Astronomische Nachrichten. No. 2,062.
Kiel : Konigliche Sternwarte.

Training-School for Nurses. Pp. 16.
Philadelphia : Grant, Faires & Rodgers
print.

Principal Characters of the Dinocerata.
By 0. C. Marsh. Pp. 6. With Plates.
From American Journal of Science.

Some Remains of an Extinct Species
of Wolf. By J. A. Allen. Pp. 5. From
American Journal of Science.

Doctrine of Force, and its Bearing upon
Theism. By G. N. Duzan, M. D. Pp. 39.
Indianapolis : J. G. Doughty print.

Memorial to Congress "on the Currency,
from the New York Board of Trade. Pp.
13.

Report on Chicago Botanical Garden
(1875). Pp. 4.

Report of the Georgia Commissioners of
Agriculture (1876). Pp. 180. Atlanta:
Estill print.

Polytechnic Review. Vol. i., No. 1.
Monthly, $3 per annum. Philadelphia : W.
H. Wahl and Robert Grimshaw, proprietors.

MISCELLANY.

Unhealthiness of New Bouses. The

unhealthiness of new houses is due to the
presence of moisture in their walls. This
moisture may be held either mechanically,
as by capillary attraction in the bricks,
mortar, and plaster ; or chemically, in the
hydrate of lime. Moisture held mechani
cally is removable by air and warmth ;
chemically-held moisture is removed grad
ually by the action of carbonic acid con
tained in the air. A writer in the English
Mechanic suggests the use of a dew-point
thermometer as a means of determining
whether a house is sufficiently free from
moisture to be inhabitable. If we take a
reading of this in the open air, in the shade,
and protected from wind, we have the actual

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

atmospheric conditions. If we now trans
fer the instrument to a room in the house
which has been closed for a few hours and
without artificial heating, we find the in
ternal conditions. If the dry thermometer
is lowered, we may conclude that the walls
are cold, and so absorb heat. If the differ
ence between the wet and dry bulbs is
lessened, we know the evaporation condi
tions are lessened ; that is, that the internal
atmosphere is overcharged with moisture.
The two together will prove that the walls
are damp, and that the house is disadvan
tageous to health.

New Tanning Process. An exhibition
was recently given at Havre, France, of
Montoison s process of tanning. A variety
of skins were experimented on, from the
fresh skin of a calf, to the old skins of sheep
and goats burnt and hardened by a tropi
cal sun ; more time of course was required
to unhaiv the latter than the former. The
skins were first soaked in hot water, then
they received two coats of a pasty liquid on
the inside, and were piled up, inside to inside,
to undergo the action of the composition.
After the skins had been soaked for a short
time, the wool and hair came from them ab
solutely intact. The manner in which the
wool came away from the skin by a touch
of the hand created considerable astonish
ment in the minds of those who witnessed
the experiments. In a few seconds the
skins were dipped in two special baths to
neutralize the unhairing composition, and
the afternoon was devoted to tanning ex
periments, which proved the invention to be
a complete success. Experienced tanners,
who were present, declared the leather pro
duced to be, to all appearance, fully equal to
that produced by the tedious methods in
common use.

The Economy of Vegetarianism. A writ
er in the Quarterly Journal of Science makes
a trenchant criticism of the arguments usu
ally employed by vegetarians in support of
their-system of diet. The author considers
the question from the economic, the moral,
and the hygienic points of view, but we have
not space to give more than an epitome of his
remarks on the first of these topics. One
hundred acres of good land, say the vegeta

rians, will support a greater amount of hu
man life if planted with wheat, potatoes, or
other crops directly consumed by man, than
if laid out in pasture or set with vegetables
intended for the food of cattle. This is
true, but all land is not good ; in every
country there is abundance of land that is
unfit for tillage, and which, nevertheless,
yields excellent pasture. Under a vegeta
rian regime such lands would cease to sup
ply the food-market. So too the produce of
the forest and moor game would cease.
More serious still, the waters would no lon
ger contribute their share. It might be said
that poor lands could still be used for past,
ure, and the produce of flocks and herds
(wool, butter, cheese, milk) utilized. But if
the grazer cannot sell the meat, it would
be unprofitable to keep animals, unless he
could get, for the products above named,
prices a hundredfold higher than he gets
now. Besides, the use of milk, butter, and
cheese, is inconsistent with vegetarian prin
ciples. In a strictly vegetarian country, tal
low, hides, and hair, could scarcely be pro
cured. Again, the refuse of the fisheries is
rising into importance as a manure fully
equal to Peruvian guano. But, if fish might
no longer be captured, the supply of this
fertilizer would be cut off, unless indeed the
destruction of animal life for purposes other
than food received an exceptional sanction.
Even then the cost of the raw material
would be greatly enhanced.

Ancient American Civilization. In the

" Congress of Americanists," held last July
at Nancy, France, a very learned paper was
read by Prof. Foucaux, of the College de
France, in favor of the theory that the an
cient civilization of America is the work of
Buddhist missionaries. The theory was
hotly attacked by several of the distin
guished men present, among them by Fried-
rich von Hellwald. The latter compared
the story of Huei-shen to that of the sea-
serpent. Dr. Hellwald is of the opinion
that this theory received its death-blow at
the Congress. Two other theories were
also very badly damaged, namely, those of a
lost continent of Atlantis and of Phoenician
settlements in America. M. Leonde Rosny
delivered a masterly address on the Maya
hieroglyphics. The Maya was the sacred

MISCELLANY.

119

language of the ancient inhabitants of Yu
catan, and the monuments of that country
bear a number of inscriptions in a hiero
glyph which has been only very partially de
ciphered as yet. M. de Rosny first critically
analyzed the attempts at decipherment made
by his predecessors, the Abbe Brasseur de
Bourbourg and H. de Charencey. The
Bishop Diego de Landa first discovered a
clew to the meaning of these hieroglyphs ;
he made out the meaning of seventy-one
signs, and the number has been increased to
one hundred and thirty-two by De Rosny.
The latter has also determined the order in
which these signs should be read. As a
rule, they run from left to right, but in ex
ceptional cases from right to left. M. Os
car Comettant, of Paris, a musician and
composer, attended the Congress expressly
for the purpose of reading a deeply inter
esting paper on " Music in America before
its Discovery by Columbus." The author
described the Peruvian flute, and, to give
the audience an idea of ancient Indian
music, had a few simple native Peruvian
melodies performed by members of the gar
rison baud. The effect was very pleasing.
A comparison of this music with that of
China shows that the two are in no respect
alike. Here was a new and unexpected ar
gument against the truth of the Huei-shen
story. The next meeting of the " Congress
of Americanists" will be held in 1877, in the
city of Luxembourg.

Climatology of ffew Zealand. The two

large islands of the New Zealand group,
North and South Island, are both very moun
tainous. In the North Island the mountains
occupy about one-tenth of the surface, and
in the South nearly four-fifths. The rivers
are very numerous, and of large size in pro
portion to the area of the country ; but
few of them, however, are navigable. The
greatest height of the main range in North
Island is 6,000 feet ; but in the South Isl
and, there are peaks from 10,000 to 14,000
feet in height. The changes of weather and
temperature in New Zealand are very sud
den; calms and gales, rain and sunshine,
heat and cold, alternate so frequently and
suddenly as to defy previous calculation, so
that there is no uniformly dry or wet sea-
eon in the year. But, though these changes

are sudden and frequent, they are confined
within very narrow limits, the extremes of
daily temperature varying throughout the
year by an average of 20 only, while in
Europe, at Rome, and other places of cor
responding latitude with New Zealand, the
same variation is 30 or more. In respect
to temperature, New Zealand may be com
pared either with England or Italy ; but
London is 7 colder than the North, and 4 U
colder than the South Island, and is less
moist. Strong winds are prevalent, and
particularly in the straits. Rain falls fre
quently, but seldom in such excessive quan
tity, or for such long periods, as in Austra
lia. The rainfall, in 1871, was 54| inches;
that of New York City in 1873 was 42^

Science-Teaching for the Young. The

master of a school for young boys gives an
account in Nature of his method of teach
ing his young pupils science. For the pur
poses of scientific instruction, the pupils are
divided into three classes, the lowest of
which contains about twenty boys, whose
average age is nine years. Class II. is
composed of ten boys, of an average age of
twelve years, while the first class contains
twelve boys, of an average age of twelve
and a half years. The time weekly de
voted to science-instruction is, for Class
III., two lessons in botany of three-quarters
of an hour each, and one hour s lesson in
physical geography. The pupils are taught
to distinguish the parts of a flower, and, by
the aid of a chart, to discover the order to
which any plant belongs. The second class
gives two and a half hours per week to bot
any. The standard of knowledge aimed at
is such as is contained in Prof. Oliver s
books, and the boys are expected to be abl*
to find out any given plant in Bentham s
" British Flora." The boys in the first class
study chemistry, and spend one afternoon
of an hour and a half at practical work in
the laboratory. Another afternoon is em
ployed in listening to a lecture founded upon
a chapter in a text-book of chemistry. The
boys, after the lecture, study up its subject-
matter in the text-book, so as to be able to
answer questions on it at the beginning of
the next lesson. The standard aimed at is
the power to discover a simple acid and base,
and an acquaintance with the text-book.

120

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

"These sciences," continues the author,
" were chosen less as subjects of study than
as instruments of training in order to culti
vate the powers of observation, and to en
courage a habit of inductive reasoning. If
the teaching of science in its early stages is
thus regarded more as a means than as an
end, there is no child, who has begun to
learn anything at all, who may not be taught
some branch of it with advantage." The
attempt was at first made to teach the chil
dren science without making them learn
anything by heart. The result was, that
they did not know what to do with the
facts they had collected, and lost them as
fast as they picked them up. "But, since
the botany boys have been set to learn the
chart by heart, and since the chemistry
boys have been using a text-book, the
progress made has been far more satis
factory. A young child s reasoning powers
are so feeble that he needs to be constantly
guided in the use of them, and, before being
set to observe, he requires to be furnished
with a cadre in which to arrange his bat
talions of facts."

Fishing for Glass-Sponges. The mode
of fishing for the Euplectella, or "Venus s
Flower- basket," on the coast of Zebu, one
of the Philippines, is described as follows
in the journal of a member of the Chal
lenger Expedition : " The natives use an in
geniously-contrived instrument in taking
the sponges. Two long strips of bamboo
meet at an angle of 45, and are fixed in
that position by an elaborate system of
stays of bamboo, which are attached to a
piece of wood running back from the angle,
between the two arms or wings of the ma
chine. The piece of wood is weighted with
stones, and a line is attached to it, so that
the machine is pulled along on the bottom,
with the angle in advance, and the two
wings sloping backward. The outer edge
of each of the bamboo rods is armed with
between thirty and forty large fish-hooks,
with their barbs set forward. The regederas,
as the Spaniards call the euplectellas, are
found at a depth of about a hundred fath
oms. The Indian lets down the machine
with a strong fine line of Manila hemp, and
pulls it slowly over the ground. Every now
and then he feels a slight tug, and at the

end of an hour or so he pulls it in, with
usually from five to ten regederas on the
hooks. Euplectella has a very different ap
pearance, under these circumstances, from
the cones of glassy network so well known
under that name. Its silver beard is clogged
with the dark-gray mud in which it lives
buried to about one-third of its height, and
the network of the remainder of the tube is
covered with a pall of yellowish sarcode.

Congress of German Anthropologists.

The Congress of Anthropologists held its
sessions for 1875 in Munich, in the early
part of August. The president, Prof. Vir-
chow, reviewed the history of the Ger
man Anthropological Society since its ori
gin, sixteen years ago. Prof. Zittel called
the attention of the delegates to the col
lection of prehistoric relics on exhibition
in one of the halls of the Odeon. The col
lection represented the ancient Kelto-Ger-
manic period of Bavarian history, and was
the result of the joint efforts of various his
torical societies, aided by the Government
and by private collectors. " Of Tertiary
man," said Prof. Zittel, 4i no trace is found
in Bavaria, any more than in the rest
of Germany, nor have we any human me
morials from the period of the preglacial
Diluvium. Even the Cavern and the Stone
age yield but few human remains. Bury-
ing-places furnish both dolichocephalous
and brachycephalous crania the latter be
longing to Southern Bavaria, the former to
the Allemans and Franks. We must not
deny to the Bavarian of to-day a Germanic
origin on account of his brachycephaly, for
even the Frisians are brachycephalic also.
In manners and customs Bavaria is as Ger
man as any other portion of Germany, and
it is not to be dropped out of the German
organism. Its post is that of guardian of
the southern marches."

The Weddas of Ceylon. A paper by
Mr. B. F. Hartshorne, read at the British
Association, gives some interesting particu
lars of the social condition and habits of
the Weddas of Ceylon. The Weddas de
pend for their subsistence on bows and ar
rows, and pass their lives in the vast forests
of the country without any habitation, and
without even the rudest attempt at culti-

MISCELLANY.

121

vating the soil. No flint or stone imple
ments are to be found among them, and
they produce a flame by rubbing two sticks
together. Their intellectual capacity is so
small, that they are unable to count or to
discriminate colors. They are almost des
titute of the religious sentiment, as well as
of an appreciation of personal cleanliness,
for they habitually eschew ablutions. They
abhor theft and lying. But, perhaps the
most remarkable trait in the character of
the Weddas is the apparent absence of a
faculty which is held to be peculiar to the
human race that of laughter. It is stated
that they regard the expression of mirth by
others with surprise and disgust, and that
no Wedda has ever been known to laugh.

Lettuce as Food for Silkworms. A writ
er in Das Ausland states that, in the sum
mer of 1873, a few silkworms, belonging to
his children, were fed with lettuce for some
time after being hatched, mulberry-leaves
not being obtainable. The caterpillars ate
the lettuce ravenously, but, when they were
about half-grown, a supply of mulberry-
leaves was procured, and this constituted
their food for the rest of the season. The
moths in due time spun their cocoons as
usual, and the next spring the author him
self determined to feed the silkworms only
on lettuce. The young brood devoured the
lettuce in great quantities, care being taken
to leave no moisture on the surface of the
leaves. The insects grew and went through
their metamorphoses in the usual manner ;
a few only died, and they from carelessness
in not wiping the leaves dry. The cocoons
were of good quality, and the author intend
ed to exhibit some of them at the Royal
Agricultural Hall in Stuttgart Time alone
can determine whether silkworms will de
generate on being fed on lettuce. How
ever this may be, the subject is one that is
worthy of investigation.

Dredging for Amber. According to an
official report from Memel, Germany, an es
tablishment has been organized for obtain
ing amber by dredging in the Kurische Haff,
near the village of Schwarzorts, situated
about twelve miles south of Memel. It has
been known for many years that amber ex
isted in the soil of this place, from the fact

that the dredger employed by the Govern
ment for clearing away the shallow spots
near Schwarzorts, which impeded naviga
tion, brought up pieces of amber, which
were duly appropriated by the workmen,
and at the time no particular attention was
paid to the matter. Some time afterward,
however, some speculators associated, and
made an offer to the Government not only
to do the dredging wherever required at
their own expense, but to pay a daily rent,
provided the amber which they might find
should become their property. This pro
posal was accepted, and the rent fixed at 15
thalers, and later at 25 thalers, for each
working day. The dredging was begun
with four machines worked by men, and
one worked by horses. Judging from the
extended business transactions in this mat
ter, its results must have been extremely
profitable. At present, the work is carried
on with eighteen steam-dredges and two
tug-boats, the whole managed by about
1,000 laborers.

Temperature of Germination. It is gen
erally supposed that the seeds of plants do
not germinate at a temperature lower than
4 or 5 Cent. (40 Fahr.), but certain experi
ments made by Uloth, and published in the
German botanical magazine, Flora, would
seem to show that this opinion is erroneous.
In Dr. Uloth s experiments the seeds of
Acer platanoides and of Triticum germi
nated at a temperature not exceeding zero
C. (32 Fahr.). In the winters of 187l- 72
and 1872- 73, he made the following experi
ments : He took two boxes and in each had
a certain depth of water frozen into a block
of ice. In these blocks he made furrows four
millimetres deep, in which he sowed seeds
of various plants, which were the same for
the two boxes. He now covered the boxes
with a plate of ice, and stored them away
in two separate ice-houses. He then partly
filled two boxes with soil, in which he sowed
the same kinds of seeds. These boxes he
also covered with plates of ice, and stored
them in the same ice-houses with the others.
Care was taken to have a good thickness of
ice (over four feet) surrounding the boxes on
every side, so as to provide against any
elevation of the temperature. The boxea
were placed in the ice-houses in January,

122

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

1872, at a temperature of 8 C., and they
were taken out on May 15th. In 1873, they
Were placed in the ice-houses in February,
the temperature being 5 C., examined on
March 25th, and removed on May 15th. The
kinds of seed sown were twenty-five in num
ber. On March 25th, four had germinated,
viz., Lepidium ruderale, L. safivum, Sinapis
alba and Brassica napus, all Cruciferae. On
May 15th, besides the foregoing, the follow
ing seeds had germinated: Arabis alpina,
jflthionema saxatile, Brassica nigra, Petro-
selinum sativum, Cannabis saliva, Ervum
lens, Pisum sativum, Avena sativa, Secale
cereale, Hordeum vulgare, Triticum vulgare.
Hence it appears that the seed of Cru-
ci ferae and of Gramineae freely germinate at
the temperature of zero C. Of the seeds
named above, about an equal number ger
minated in ice and in earth. The radicles
had penetrated the blocks of ice. Those
seeds which had not germinated lay rotten
on the surface of the ice or of the soil.

Transformation of Species. An instance
of transformation of species is recorded as
follows in the Zeitschrift fur Wissensihaft-
liche Zoologie. There are some salt-marshes
near Odessa, which in 1871 contained num
bers of Artemia salina, a minute crusta
cean, also known as the brine-worm. At
that time, owing to the rupture of a dike,
the quantity of salt in the pond was very
small, the water marking 8 in the Baume"
areometer. The dikes were repaired, and
concentration then proceeded rapidly until,
in September, 1875, the water marked 25.
As the salt was increased the Artemia sa
lina was modified from generation to gen
eration, so that, by the end of 1874, several
individuals had no caudal lobes (see figure
of A. salina in No. 20 of the MONTHLY,
December, 1873), and they presented all
the specific characters of Artemia Mulhau-
seni. The changes observed from year to
year are minutely described. They appeared
especially in the caudal part, and were ac
companied by diminution of size. These
observations were confirmed by experi
ments made on Artemia kept in water of
various degrees of softness. In the inverse
experiment from a greater to a less soft
ness, A. Mulhauseni returned to the form
of A, salina. As the saltness increased or

decreased, there was an increase of dimi-
nution of the surfaces of the bronchiae. The
writer of the article further gives reasons
for thinking that the genus Artemia is
only a degraded form of Bronchipus, de
graded through the influence of the me
dium.

Clothing the lonng. " Hygiene ol
Dress " is the subject of a series of articles in
the Sanitary Record. The author s remarks
concerning the proper clothing of infants
and children are judicious. "Warmth,"
he says, "is the first requisite for infants,
who are very susceptible to cold. The
clothing of the infant should be both light
and warm. Its purpose is to protect the
infant from chills, or rather to prevent too
great a loss of heat. It should be ample
enough to prevent any pressure on the
blood-vessels, which would impede the cir
culation and hinder the free development
of the members. It should be especially
easy over the chest, in order to insure the
free play of the lungs and heart, and should
be equally ample around the stomach and
the intestines, in order not to interfere
with digestion. The sleeves should be
wide, in order that the garment may be
easily put on, and to favor the circulation
of the blood in the arteries and veins of the
arms and legs. The robe should be long
enough to preserve the infant from cold,
but not so long as to be a burden. The
head should not be covered. A cap often
tends to favor congestions ; sometimes, too,
it compresses the head, and certain cere
bral affections have been, apparently with
good reason, referred to this cause alone.

An Automatic Light-Registering Machine.

Mr. Crookes has made an ingenious appli
cation of his radiometer to meteorological
purposes. In our present meteorological rec
ords we note variations in heat, rainfall, at
mospheric pressure, etc., but light, the most
important influence, has been neglected hith
erto, for the want of a machine for automati
cally registering its variations. Mr. Crookes
has arranged the arms of his radiometer so
that they carry round a small magnet sus
pended beneath them. The amount of light
falling on the pith-balls at the extremities of
the radiometer arms determines the rate

MISCELLANY.

123

of rotation. Near the magnet, attached
to the rotating arms, is suspended another
magnet, which oscillates as the attached
magnet presents alternately its north and
south poles. This oscillation makes and
breaks an electric circuit, which, by a wire
of any required length, is connected with
a recording Morse machine moved by
clockwork. Each revolution of the rotat
ing pith-balls is thus recorded by a punch
of the Morse on a strip of paper, and so a
register is kept of the amount of light fall
ing at any place.

A Mountain of Granite. The "Stone
Mountain " of De Kalb County, Georgia, is
described in the American Journal of Sci
ence by Mr. E. Hillyer. It is a solid, bald
mass of granite, from 1,500 to 2,000 feet
in height. The northeast side is perpen
dicular, unbroken, and smooth ; the north
west side is inclined so as to be of easy
ascent ; while the west and southwest are
so steep as to be barely accessible. On the
inclined surface the rock breaks off in lay
ers, a few inches to several feet thick,
which structure may be due to shrinking in
cooling, and to atmospheric influences, to
gether with solar heat. The rock is per
fectly homogeneous, with no trace of strati
fication a pure whitish granite. There is
no doubt that below the surface lamination
a piece could be quarried out a quarter of
a mile in length, if man could command
the means. This granite exists over a wide
region of country, and is much used for
building-purposes.

Rattlesnakes and their Bites. In the

course of some notes on the rattlesnake,
published in Forest and Stream, Dr. J. W.
Bailey, of Albany, asserts that this serpent
is the most sluggish of the snake family.
It never strikes unless in self-defense, ex
cepting just before and after its winter
sleep. Of course, the rattlesnake s idea of
self-defense is rather broad. Thus, if a
person step upon it by the purest accident
the snake will make no allowance, but
strikes the intruder on the spot. To strike,
however, it must be in close coil, with its
head erect. It is capable of springing only
a little more than half its length, unless it
be lying on an inclined plane; then, by

supporting itself entirely on its tail, it can
spring much farther. Hogs attack the rat
tlesnake with impunity, the effect of the
poison being probably neutralized by a thick
layer of adipose tissue. Dr. Bailey is able
to contradict, from his own experience, the
statement that serpents do not move about
at night ; he has often, when riding by moon
light seen them gliding through the grass.
The author says that, when the venom of a
serpent has entered the circulation, all rem
edies are unavailing. He has seen a freshly-
killed chicken split open and applied to the
wound, with good results. In such cases
the flesh of the chicken turns green and pu
trid where it comes in contact with the vi
rus. The most certain remedy, however, is
whiskey or brandy used in large quantities
say a quart immediately. Intoxication
is not exhibited until the poison has been
counteracted. Sweet-oil, taken in doses of
several ounces, is also effectual. Sports
men camping in Texas are accustomed, af
ter pitching their tent, to stretch around it
a hair lariat. The short hairs irritate the
snake s belly as he attempts to cross the
lariat, and he retreats.

Cause of Monstrosities. In the course
of a discussion of the subject of " monstros
ities," in the Detroit Academy of Medicine,
Prof. Armor, of the Long Island Medical
College, who was present, presented some
ingenious views, which may be briefly stated
as follows : Monstrosity is commonly re
ferred to " arrest of development " or to
" abnormal development." But what is the
true cause ? Prof. Armor answers : 1.
Something deficient or abnormal in the gen
erative matter from which the foetus is de
veloped. This generative matter he looked
upon as representative ; there is not a tis
sue, structure, or form, that is not repre
sented in it, so that deviation from the
normal type may be impressed at the very
instant of conception. The next point was
the faithful transmission of acquired struct
ural peculiarities, when once fully estab
lished. Finally, it was suggested that the
discussion of this subject bears directly
upon the great question of evolution : the
strongest and fittest survive ; weak parts
of the organism atrophy and die they
cease to be seminally represented. 2. The

12 4

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

next cause of monstrosities mentioned was
such as operated directly on the foetus
in utero. The generative matter may be
perfect and fully representative, but certain
morbid influences may act directly on the
fo3tus. Dr. Armor instanced the experi
ments made in producing malformations by
submitting hens eggs to various mechani
cal influences during incubation. In con
clusion, he held that all causes of malforma
tion would come under one of two heads :
They are either generative or mechanical
sometimes one operating, sometimes the
other, sometimes both.

Habitat of the Crocodile. Till recently
the two American species of crocodile, de
scribed by Cuvier, have been supposed to
be confined to South America and the West
Indies. In 1870 Prof. Wyman identified a
skull from Florida as belonging to Cuvier s
species, Crocodilus acutus. Mr. William T.
Hornaday now describes in the American
Naturalist two specimens male and female
of the Crocodilus acutus which he cap
tured last year in the vicinity of Biscayne
Bay, on the southeast coast of Florida.
The male waa fourteen feet in length, and
his girth at a point midway between fore
and hind legs was five feet two inches. His
teeth were large and blunt ; his head rugose
and knotty, with armor-plates very large
and rough. On dissection it was found
that during life he had sustained serious
bodily injuries, probably in battle. Three
of his teeth were shattered ; the tibia and
fibula of the right hind-leg had been broken
in the middle and again united, also one of
the metatarsal bones of the same limb ;
the tail had been docked, and two of the
vertebrae had grown together solidly.

The female measured ten feet eight inch
es. Her head was regular in outline,
comparatively smooth, with white, regular,
and sharp plates, even in surface and con
tour, and colors very marked. The entire
under-surface of both specimens was pale-
yellow, shading gradually darker up the
sides with fine irregular streaks and spots
of black. The general appearance of the
female was decidedly yellowish, while the
back and tail of the male showed an almost
entire absence of yellow, the prevailing
color being a leaden, lustreless black.

While in Florida the author saw the skulls
or other remains of three other crocodiles.
He observes that all the specimens were
taken in water that is brackish about half
the time.

Effects of Strain on the Magnetism of
Soft Iron. The following account of exper
iments made by Sir William Thomson, with
a view to ascertain the effects of stress up
on the magnetism of soft iron, we take from
the Telegraphic Journal. Wires of steel
and of soft iron, about twenty feet long,
were suspended from the roof of the physi
cal laboratory of Glasgow University. An
electro-magnetic helix was placed around a
few inches of each of the wires, so that the
latter could be magnetized when an electric
current was passed through the former, the
induced current thus produced in a second
helix outside the first being indicated by a
second galvanometer. With steel wire, the
magnetism diminished when weights were
attached to the wire, and increased when
they were taken off; but with " special "
soft-iron wire (wire almost as soft as lead),
the magnetism was increased when weights
were put on, and diminished when they
were taken off. Afterward he discarded
the electrical apparatus ; and, by suspend
ing a piece of soft wire near the magnet
ometer, consisting of a needle a small frac
tion of a grain in weight, with a reflecting
mirror attached, the wire was magnetized
inductively, simply by the magnetism of the
earth, and changes in its magnetism were
made by applying weights and strains, the
changes being then indicated by the mag
netometer.

The Origin of Astronomy. Like that
of many other sciences and arts, the origin
of astronomy has been ascribed to various
nations of antiquity, and it is very doubtful
if any one of these can lay exclusive claim
to the credit of having been its founder.
The succession of day and night and of the
seasons, the phases of the moon, and the
motions of the heavenly bodies, must have
enlisted the attention of man from the ear
liest times and in every clime. The result
would naturally be a more or less perfect
system of astronomy. Some nations, no
doubt, from one cause or another, culti-

MISCELLANY.

125

vated this science with more success than
others, and among these the Assyrians,
Babylonians, or Chaldeans, are preeminent.
The records of their observations were
adopted by the Greeks, and through the
latter were transmitted to the Romans.
Thus our modern astronomy is really trace
able back to the plains of Babylonia. The
question arises, Of what race were the
founders of Chaldean astronomy ? This
subject is considered by A. H. Sayce, who,
in a communication to Nature, says that
they were not Semites, but a people who
are now generally termed Accadians, and
who spoke an agglutinative language.
" They had come from the mountains of
Elam or Susiana, on the east, bringing with
them the rudiments of writing and civiliza
tion. They found a cognate race already
settled in Chaldea, and in conjunction with
the latter they built the great cities of
Babylonia, whose ruins still attest their
power and antiquity. Somewhere between
3000 and 4000 B. c., the Semites entered
the country from the east, and gradually
contrived to conquer the whole of it. It is
probable the conquest was completed about
2000 B. c. At all events Accadian became
a dead language some two or three centu
ries later, but, as the Semitic invaders owed
almost all the civilization they possessed to
their more polished predecessors, it re
mained the language of literature, like Latin
in the middle ages, down to the last days
of the Assyrian Empire."

Sounds produced by Wowing into a
Flame. Some noteworthy observations
have been made by Decharme on the pro
duction of sounds by blowing into a flame
through a tube. He is of opinion that the
air acts rather chemically than mechani
cally. The sounds, according to him, result
from small explosions by the combination
of the oxygen of the air with the hydrogen
or carbon of the flame, in imperfect com
bustion. For the sound to occur, the pres
ence of air, or of an inert gas mixed with
oxygen, seems necessary. In one of M.
Decharrae s experiments the white flame
from a Bunsen burner, with the lateral
apertures closed, gave a very strong sound
when blown into with a tube ; whereas the
blue flame, produced when the apertures

are open, gave a very weak one, or none at
all. Carbonic acid alone, or nitrogen, or
oxygen, or chlorine, blown into a flame of
illuminating gas, gave little or no sound ;
protoxide of nitrogen gave a sound that
was weak, but more acute than that ob
tained from air.

Exploration of Victoria Cave. Dr. Tidde-
man read a report on the exploration of
the Victoria Cave, Settle, during the year
1874-"75. The report assigns to the pre-
glacial or the glacial age the lower deposits
of this cave, which contain early Pleisto
cene animal remains associated with a hu
man fibula. The animal bones were nearly
all mere fragments, though one was perfect ;
they represent bears, oxen, deer, goats or
sheep, elephants, swans, etc. Attention was
called in the report to the great distance of
time which separated that age from our own.
In the cave Roman times were separated
from our own day by deposits sometimes
less than a foot thick, but nowhere by more
than two feet of talus, the chips which time
detached from the cliffs above. The Neo
lithic age, which antiquaries knew was a
considerable time before the Roman occu
pation, is represented in some places at a
depth of four or five feet beneath the Ro
man layer, but at others it runs into it. Then
come nine feet of talus without a record of
any living thing. Judging by the shallow-
ness of the Roman 1 ayer, this must repre
sent an enormous interval of time. Next
come the bowlders, the inscribed records
of the Glacial period. They must repre
sent a long series of climatic changes dur
ing which the ice was waxing and waning,
advancing and moving back over the mouth
of the cave. Then there is a break in the
continuity of the deposits, the bowlders ly
ing on the edges of the older beds, which
shows that time was given for changes to
take place to allow the district to cool down
from a warmth suitable to the hippopota
mus and become a fitting pasture for the
reindeer. It was in that warm period that
the man lived and died whose fibula oceurs
among the bones in the cave.

Methods of preserving Fresh Meat. So

numerous are the processes devised in mod
ern times for the preservation of food, that

126

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a simple catalogue of them would occupy
several pages of this magazine. In so far
as the preservation of vegetables and of cer
tain fruits is concerned a very fair measure
of success has undoubtedly been achieved ;
but with flesh-meat the case is different.
We propose to describe here a few of the
chief methods adopted for preserving meats,
following for the most part a writer upon
this subject in the Journal of the Society of
Arts. These methods may all be reduced
under the four heads of Desiccation, Re
frigeration, Use of Chemical Antiseptics,
and Application of Heat. Desiccation or
drying has been practised from the earliest
times. Charqui, or jerked beef, is an ex
ample of fairly successful preservation, but
it is immensely inferior to fresh meat. Some
years ago the food committee of the Lon
don Society of Arts reported favorably
upon some specimens of "powdered beef"
from Queensland; but the article has been
unable to win its way to public favor. The
reason of this no doubt is, that animal mat
ter preserved by desiccation loses its flavor
and becomes tough and indigestible, the
fat becomes rancid, and in damp weather
the whole turns mouldy and sour. These
difficulties are to some extent obviated by
mixing absorbent substances with fatty
food, as in "pemmican," where sugar and
spice are mixed with dry powdered meat.
Meat-biscuit is made on a similar principle.
Tellier, of Paris, adopts the following meth
od: He first exhausts the air from a close
vessel containing the meat, then fills it with
carbonic-acid gas, again exhausts and again
fills with the same gas. In this way the air
is almost entirely removed. He then ab
sorbs the carbonic acid by the use of a con
centrated solution of potash, by which a
very near approach to a vacuum is produced.
The meat is removed from the vessel after
three days, and may be kept sound without
further trouble, but it will have lost 20 per
cent, of its weight.

The keeping of meat by refrigeration is
practised on a small scale in every house
hold. The same thing was done on a large
scale at Melbourne in 1872, when a large
quantity of meat was kept for six weeks
perfectly fresh in an ice-chamber. In the
following year an attempt was made to ship
from Australia to England meat kept fresh
by the same method, but the experiment

failed. Better success has attended later
shipments of meat from Canada to London,
and from Texas to New Orleans. The prog
ress made in ice-making machines is such
as to inspire great hopes of success in pre
serving meat by cold.

Among chemical antiseptics common salt
of course holds a place. Many patents have
been taken out for the employment of
sulphur-fumes (sulphurous acid). Bisul
phite of lime is very efficacious for the tem
porary preservation of meat, and has been
practically tested with favorable results.
Our readers need not be reminded of what
is claimed for salicylic acid. Among other
chemical agents employed for this purpose
we may mention acetate of potash and chlo-
ralum.

The expulsion of atmospheric air from
vessels containing meat, by means of heat,
is certainly the most successful method of
preservation yet adopted. Many difficult
processes are in use, but the main principle
expulsion of air by heat is the same in
all. They all, too, agree in this, that they
render the meat comparatively insipid.

NOTES.

THE subject of iterated nesting by birds
being under discussion hi Forest and Stream,
Dr. Charles C. Abbott contributes to that
journal the following list of birds which he
has himself observed nesting twice in sum
mer : 1. Usually breeding twice robin, cat
bird, bluebird, house-wren, yellow warbler,
English sparrow, bay-winged bunting, chip-
ping-sparrow, song-sparrow, orchard ori
ole ; 2. Occasionally breeding twice white-
breasted nuthatch, scarlet tanager, yellow-
bird, chewink, Baltimore oriole, purple gra-
kle.

THE American Metrological Society has,
through its president, memorialized Con-
ress for the preparation of coins, of metri
cal weight and uniform fineness, and for the
passage of laws and conclusion of treaties
whereby such coins shall become legal ten
der, according to their weight.

A CRUCIAL experiment was recently
made at Sunderland, England, on a fire
proof house. One of the rooms was filled
with tar-barrels, wood, and other combusti
ble material, and, when the door was shut,
the mass was set on fire. It simply burnt
tself out, without apparently affecting the
condition of the adjoining rooms or the sta
bility of the house itself. The building ma
terial was a concrete of cement and fibre

NOTES.

127

bound together by strings of iron and wire. A COMMITTEE of the Boston Society of

This becomes a sort of stone-cloth, avail- Civil Engineers has drafted afom of Jed
able for floors and doors, as well as walls tion to be addressed to ConS askin-
and ceilings, so that no wood whatever need for the establishment of the meS systenl

of ^ weights and measures in this country.

be used.

A SMALL pike caught by Dr. Charles C.
Abbott, of Trenton, New Jersey, seemed to
be unusually corpulent, so the fish was dis
sected. ^ It was found to contain a large
mud-minnow; within the minnow was a
pike about two inches long, and within the
pike the remains of another mud-minnow !

THE action of sundry drugs on the liver
has been experimentally studied by Drs.
Rutherford and Vignal, the result going to
show that podophylline, aloes, and colchi-
cura, are powerful hepatic stimulants. The
same property, but in an inferior degree, is
possessed by rhubarb, senna, taraxacum,
and scammony. Croton-oil appears to have
but little action on the liver. In three cases
out of four calomel had no action on the
liver, and in the fourth the secretion of bile
was slightly increased.

THE Lancet publishes a list of British
physicians deceased last year at an advanced
age. There are nineteen names in the list,
and the sum of their ages amounts to 1,617
years, showing an average age of eighty-
five years. The greatest age attained by
any of the deceased was ninety-six years,
and three had reached that term. The low
est was seventy-six years, at which age two
of the deceased ended their career.

THE Monthly Weather Review of the

This system is now in use in all European
countries except England, Norway, Sweden
Russia, and Turkey. It has also been
adopted in Mexico and the various states
of South America.

THE Royal College of Surgeons, of Eng
land, having been advised by eminent coun
sel that the terms of their charter require
them to admit women as candidates for
their diploma, have announced that they
are now ready to admit women to the ex
aminations, on the same conditions as men.

THE repugnance of the Chinese to rail
roads is based upon an article of their reli
gion ancestor-worship. Constructors of
railroads pay no respect to ancient burying-
places, but run their lines right through
them, thus disturbing the repose of the
dead. This disregard of the sacredness of
the last resting-place of the departed griev
ously scandalizes the devout Chinaman.

CYNODRAKON MAJOR is the name pro
posed by Prof. Richard 0\ven for a reptile
having some points of mammalian resem
blance, some fossil bones of which have
been found in the late paleozoic or early
mesozoic formation of South Africa. Prof.
Owen thinks he recognizes in these fossils
some indications of retrogression rather
than progression in descent. A problem

peach and cherry buds swelling at Litch-
field, Michigan, and on the same day roses
in bloom at Green Springs, Alabama.

As mentioned in the Notes of the No
vember number, the Abbe Moigno, of Paris,
has published several papers by Tyndall,
Huxley, Du Bois-Reymond, and others, ac
companying them with refutations of their
authors freethinking arguments. The good
abbe doubtless meant well, but the Roman
"Congregation of the Index" finds in his
book more poison than antidote, and ac
cordingly forbids it to be circulated.

EARTHQUAKE-SHOCKS are stated in the
Monthly Weather Review to have been felt
on December 3d at Carson City, Nevada
(slight); 13th, at Maricopa Wells, Arizopa;
21st, at Santa Barbara, California; 22d, at
Fortress Monroe, Virginia ; also at New
Market, Indiana ; Greensboro, North Caro
lina ; Petersburg, Virginia ; and other points
in Virginia, Maryland, and North Carolina.

Signal-Office records the following phe- j here presented for which, in Owen s opin-
nomena for December, 1875, namely : Dan- i n neither the Lamarckian nor the Dar-
delions in bloom at Brownsville, Pennsyl- wiuian theories offer any answer,
vania, on the 23d ; 24th, pinks and hyacinths

in bloom at Brookhaven, Mississippi; 25th, .. , WE ?? f f\ ican %?*"***

...>. ... . -V that a summer School ot Biology will be held

in the Peabody Museum at Salem, Massachu
setts, beginning July 7th, and continuing
six weeks. Special attention will be given
to marine botany and zoology. Mr. J
Robinson will be instructor in botany, with
C. H. Higbee as assistant. A. S. Packard,
Jr., with the assistance of J. S. Kingslcy
and S. E. Cassino, will give instruction in
zoology. Special instruction in microscopy
by Rev. E. C. Bolles. The number of pu
pils is limited to fifteen.

FURTHER experiments with salicylic acid,
made by Feser and Friedberger, show that
it may bo administered for a long time, in
small doses, to domestic animals, without
injurious effects to digestion, nutrition, or
general health. But, given to a dog in the
proportion of one gramme to five kilo
grammes of the animal s weight, salicylic
acid causes paralysis of the extremities and
disorder of the respiration and circulation.
Death from strong doses of the acid results
from paralysis of the respiration.

128

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE Normal (Illinois) "School of Natural
History " will open on July 25th, continu
ing in session till August 25th. The course
of study embraces comparative anatomy of
vertebrates ; comparative anatomy of in
vertebrates ; analytical zoology ; analytical
entomology; botany. In the list of in
structors are the names of B. G. Wilder,
Cyrus Thomas, and J. A. Sewall. Fuller
information given by S. A. Forbes, Normal,
Illinois.

IN the American Journal of Science for
February, Prof. J. D. Dana corrects an
error which for many years has circulated
in geographies, gazetteers, and similar
works. This error consists in representing
the West and East Rocks near New Haven
as being the termination of the Green and
White Mountains respectively. " The fact
is," writes Prof. Dana, " that East Rock is
but a short appendage to the system of
trap-dikes of the Connecticut Yalley, and
West Rock, a southern portion of the same
system. The Green Mountains," he adds,
" consist of metamorphic rocks, and are
not younger than Silurian. But the trap
ridges of the Connecticut Valley belong to
the valley, and are of Jurassic origin."

A STATION for agricultural experiments
has been established at the Wesleyan Uni
versity, Middletown, by the State of Con
necticut. Dr. At water, Professor of Chem
istry in the university is the director, and
Dr. W. C. Tilden, with two assistants, is the
acting chemist. The State appropriation
being insufficient to defray all the expenses
of the station, the proprietors of the Amer
ican Agriculturist have agreed to make up
the deficiency.

THE twin-steamship Castalia, which dur
ing four months of last year daily made
voyages between Dover and Calais, appears
to have given satisfaction in every respect,
save speed. Arrangements have now been
made by the Channel Steamship Company
for the building of a large twin-steamship,
which, uniting all the advantages of the
Castalia with such improvements as experi
ence has suggested, will have a speed of
not less than fourteen knots an hour.

A WONDERFUL case of recovery from a
gunshot-wound was that of the late Com
mander Sanders of the British Navy, who
died last February, at the age of ninety-one
years. In 1803 he was shot in the head,
the bullet passing clear through from ear to
eye. He was kindly cared for by the sur
geon of the French ship which he was at
tempting to " cut out " when he received the
wound. At the end of five years detention
as a prisoner of war, he went back to Eng
land sound and well, with the exception of
the loss of an eye.

THE relative strength of various sub
stances is stated as follows in the Scientific
American: A rod ^ inch in diameter, of
the best steel, will sustain, before breaking,
9,000 Ibs. ; soft steel, 7,000 Ibs. ; iron wire,
6,000 Ibs. ; good iron, 4,000 Ibs. ; inferior
bar-iron, 2,000 Ibs.; cast-iron, 1,000 to
3,000 Ibs. ; copper wire, 3,000 Ibs. ; silver,
2,000 Ibs. ; gold, 2,500 Ibs. ; tin, 300 Ibs. ;
cast-zinc, 160 Ibs. ; cast-lead, 50 Ibs. ; milled
lead, 200 Ibs. ; box or locust wood, 1,200
Ibs. ; toughest ash, 1,000 Ibs. ; elm, 800 Ibs. ;
beech, cedar, white-oak, pitch-pine, 600
Ibs. ; chestnut and maple, 650 Ibs. ; poplar,
400 Ibs.

A NEW variety of bronze, containing
manganese, and known as " manganese
bronze," has lately been introduced in Eng
land. It is said to be very valuable for all
kinds of small work wherein gun-metal is
now used, and it is capable of being forged
like iron.

DURING a visitation of extreme cold
weather in the vicinity of Carson River, the
quicksilver pump in the Eureka mill ceased
to perform its proper functions ; the ma
chinery of the pump continued to work, but
no quicksilver was raised. On examination,
the mercury in the tank was found to be
frozen solid.

THE British Geological Society has this
year awarded to Prof. T. H. Huxley its
Wollaston Medal. Prof. Huxley has also
been elected a Corresponding Member of
the Danish Academy of Sciences. The
Royal Academy of Rome has conferred a
similar honor upon Mr. Herbert Spencer,
having elected him a Corresponding Fellow.

PROF. D. S. JORDAN, of Indianapolis, will
conduct a summer School of Science, during
the coming season, in the mountains of East
Tennessee. The members of the school will
collect specimens of the birds, reptiles, fishes,
insects, and plants, of that region.

IN a cave near Thayngen, Switzerland,
Conrad Merck has discovered a quantity of
animal remains, consisting of bones of the
reindeer, cave-lion, mammoth, woolly-haired
rhinoceros, urus, glutton, and other species.
Relics of human habitation have also been
found in great abundance such as flint-
flakes, implements of reindeer-horn, and sev
eral well-executed engravings on bone, horn,
and lignite.

A WRITER in the Gardeners Monthly
states that, when properly cured, the kernel
of the American walnut is white and deli
cious, with a delicate flavor hardly surpassed
by any nut. The nuts should be gathered as
soon as they are ripe, and not allowed to
remain in the hull. They should then be
dried quickly.

BENJAMIN THOMPSON (COUNT RUMFORD).

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

JUNE, 1876.
LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD/

BY H. TAINE.

THE following observations were made from day to day and taken
down on the spot. The subject of them was a little girl, whose
mental development took the ordinary course, being neither precocious
nor the reverse.

From the first, probably by reflex action, this child cried inces
santly, kicked, moved all its limbs, and perhaps all its muscles. It
was also doubtless by reflex action that, during the first week, she
moved her fingers, and even grasped for some length of time the finger
of another person. Toward the third month, she began to touch with
her hands, and to stretch out her arms, but did not yet know how to
guide her hand ; she essayed movements of the anterior members, ex
periencing the consequent tactile and muscular sensations nothing
more. In my opinion, out of this enormous multiplicity of movements,
continually repeated, will be separated, by gradual selection, inten
tional movements having an object and attaining it. During the last
fifteen days (age, two and a half months) I have observed one move
ment which is plainly an acquired one : on hearing its grandmother s
voice, the infant turns its head in the direction from which the sound
proceeds.

There is the same spontaneous training for the use of the voice as
for movements. The vocal organ acquires dexterity just as the limbs
do. The child learns how to produce such or such a sound just as it
learns how to turn the head or the eyes, i. e., by constant efforts.

Toward the age of three months and a half, while in the country,
the child was brought into the open air, and laid upon a carpet spread
in the garden. Here, lying on her back or on her face, she for hours
at a time would work with all her limbs, uttering a multitude of differ-

1 Translated from Revue Philosophique by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.
VOL. ix. 9

130 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ent cries and exclamations, consisting exclusively of vowel-sounds ;
this continued several months.

By degrees consonants were added to the vowels, and the excla
mations became more and more articulate. This process resulted in a
sort of prattle of great diversity and completeness, which would be
kept up for a quarter of an hour at a time, and repeated ten times a
day. The sounds (vowel and consonant), which at first were vague
and very hard to discriminate, became more and more like those ut
tered by adults, and the series of simple cries came to be, in some
measure, like a foreign language which we do not understand. The
infant is pleased with its prattle, like a bird ; one can see that she is
happy that she smiles with pleasure yet it is nothing better than
the chirruping of a bird as yet, for the child does not attach any
meaning to the sounds she utters. (Age, twelve months).

She has acquired thus much, in great measure, by her own endeav
ors and unassisted, but she has gained a little by the aid of others and
by imitation. First, of her own accord she produced the sound mm ;
this amused her it was for her a discovery. So, too, she of herself
produced another sound, Ara<mw, emitted from the windpipe in deep
gutturals. These two sounds were repeated several times in succes
sion in the hearing of the child ; she would listen attentively, and
now she repeats them at once on hearing them. The same is to be
said of the sound papapapa, which she at first uttered several times
at random and by herself, and which was then repeated to her a num
ber of times, in order to fix it in her memory. She soon uttered
this sound at will, with easy, unerring execution (though without un
derstanding what it meant), as simple prattle. In short, example and
education have served only to call the child s attention to sounds
which she herself was already attempting to make ; to direct her pref
erence to these, to make them uppermost among the host of similar
sounds. But the initiative all came from herself; and the same is to
be said with respect to gesture. For months she of her own accord
attempted all the movements of the arms, flexion of the hand at the
wrist, bringing the hands together, etc. Then, after instruction and
repeated effort, she learned to clap hands, to hold up the two hands,
as in the gesture of astonishment, etc. Example, instruction, and
education, are only channels in the bed of which the stream flows ;
its source lies higher.

To see that this is the case, one has only to listen to her prattle for
an hour : it is wonderfully flexible. I am satisfied that here every shade
of emotion surprise, joy, vexation, sadness finds expression in va
rieties of tone ; herein she equals or even surpasses the adult. On
comparing her with animals, even those best endowed in this way
such as the dog, parrot, singing-birds I find that, with a less-extended
gamut of sounds, she far surpasses them in the fineness and the abun
dance of her expressive intonations. Delicacy of impressions and deli-

LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD. 131

cacy of expressions are the distinctive characteristics of man as com
pared with animals : here is the origin of language and of general
ideas. Among animals-, man is, what some great and ingenious poet
is among laborers and peasants : in a word, he is cognizant of a mul
titude of shades and tints, even to a whole class of shades, which are
unnoticed by them. This is further seen both in the kind and in the
degree of man s curiosity. It is easily seen that, commencing with the
fifth or sixth month, infants, during the succeeding two years or more,
give all their time to making experiments in natural philosophy. There
is no atiimal, not even the cat or the dog, which makes such continual
study of all bodies within its reach. Every day, the infant of whom
I speak (age twelve months) touches, feels, turns over, lets fall, tastes,
and experiments upon, whatever comes under its hand ; whatever the
object may be a ball, doll, rattle, toy once it is sufficiently known,
the infant leaves it alone : it is no longer a novelty ; there is nothing
more to be learned from it ; it no longer interests the child. This is
simple curiosity ; the child s physical wants, its desire of food, have
nothing to do with the matter. It would seem as though already in
its little brain each group of perceptions tends to complete itself, as
in the brain of a child that possesses language.

She does not yet pronounce any word to which she attaches a
meaning, but there are two or three words to which she attaches a
meaning on hearing them uttered. She daily sees her grandfather,
whose portrait, far less than life-size, but a very good likeness, has
often been shown to her. During the past two months or so (from
the age of ten months), when any one asked her the question, " Where
is grandfather ? " she turns to the portrait and laughs at it. Before
her grandmother s portrait, which is not so good a likeness, she
makes no such gestures, nor does she give any token of knowing
what it is. For a month past (from the age of eleven months), when
ever she is asked, "Where is mamma?" she turns toward her
mother. So, too, with her father. I would not go so far as to affirm
that these three actions transcend animal intelligence. A little dog,
who sits by my side, in like manner understands what is meant when
lie hears the word sugar : he will come from a distance to get his
morsel. In all this there is nothing but association : in the case of
the dog, between a sound and a certain taste-sensation ; in that of
the infant, between a sound and the shape of an individual face ; the
object designated by the sound is not yet a general character.

I believe, however, that now (age, twelve months) a step farther
has been taken ; witness the following circumstance, which for me
is decisive : This winter the child was daily taken to her grandmother s,
and the latter very frequently showed her a copy, in colors, of a
painting by Luini representing a nude Infant Jesus. On showing her
this picture she was told that " this is baby." During the last eight
days, whenever, in some other room, we ask her, Where is baby ? "

1 3 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

(meaning herself), she turns toward any picture that may be there,
whether it be a painting or an engraving. Hence "baby" signifies,
for her, some general notion, whatever painfings and engravings of
persons or landscapes may possess in common ; i. e., if I am not mis
taken, " baby," in her mind, signifies something variegated in a shin
ing frame. Indeed, it is plain that the objects painted or designed
within the frames are so much Greek to her, while she must be deeply
impressed by the glittering frame and the patches of color, light, and
shade, within its border. Here, then, we have her first general term ;
the meaning she gives it is not ours, but nevertheless it- is evidence
of original work done by the infantile understanding. For, though
we have supplied the word, we have not supplied the meaning.

(Age, fourteen months and three weeks.) The gains of the last
six weeks have been notable : besides the word " baby " she now un
derstands several others, and of these she pronounces five or six, giving
to each a meaning of its own. Mere prattle is succeeded by a begin
ning of intentional and determinate language. The principal words
pronounced by her now are papa, maman, tete (by which she means
nurse) ; oua-oua (her term for dog), koko (hen, cock), dada (horse,
wagon), mia (cat, kitten), kaka, and tern. She acquired earliest the
two words papa and tern : this latter word is very curious, and well
worthy of serious consideration.

For fifteen days she pronounced papa without a purpose, without
a meaning, as simple prattle, and as an easy and amusing exercise of
articulation. Later came association between this name and the im
age or perception ; and then the portrait or the person of her father
brought to her lips the sound papa, and this same word, when pro
nounced by another, awoke in her the memory, the mental image of
her father. Between the two states just noticed there exists an insen
sible transition, so that, at certain times, the first state still persists
after the second state has been attained ; at times she still plays with
a sound, though she understands its sense. This is very easily seen
with respect to some of her later acquisitions, for instance the word
kaka. This word she often repeats without purpose or intent, as
prattle, much to the displeasure of her mother. Again, she fre
quently utters the word purposely, when occasion offers. Further it
is evident that, as in the case of the word " baby," she has extended
the meaning of this term. Thus, for instance, on seeing in a flower
bed the track of moistened earth left by a watering-pot, she repeated
this word again and again with evident -appreciation of its meaning.
.For her it signifies what wets.

She shows great capacity for imitating sounds. She has seen and
listened to fowls, and now repeats their koko far more accurately than
we can do it, with the guttural intonation of the animals themselves.
This is simply a faculty pertaining to the windpipe, but she possesses
another faculty which is far more striking, a faculty that is par excel-

LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD. 133

knee human, namely, the power of noting analogies. This is the
fountain-head of general ideas and of language. We point out to
her on the walls of a room the figures of birds painted red and blue,
a couple of inches in length, saying once only, " Look at the kokos."
She was at once conscious of the resemblance, and for half a day she
took the liveliest pleasure in being carried up and down along the
walls of the room, enthusiastically crying out, at the sight of each
bird, koko ! No dog, no parrot would ever act thus, and, in my opin
ion, we have in this fact the essence of language. Other analogies
she perceives with equal readiness. The first dog she ever saw was a
little black one belonging to the house, who barks frequently ; from
him she framed the word oua-oua. Very soon, with but slight as
sistance from those around her, she applied this word to dogs of all
sizes and of every breed that she saw in the street ; later she applied
it to porcelain figures of dogs a still more noteworthy fact. Nay,
on seeing, day before yesterday, a month-old kid, she called it oua-
oua, thus naming it after the dog, which is the nearest form, rather
than after the horse, which is too big, or the cat, which has a different
gait. 1 Herein we perceive a trait characteristic of man : two very
dissimilar successive perceptions leave a common residue, a distinct
impression, solicitation, impulsion, which results in the invention or
adoption of some mode of expression, either by gesture, cry, articula
tion, or name.

I come now to the word tern, one of the most noteworthy and one
of the first pronounced by her. All the other words are probably
attributives, to use the language of Max Mtiller, 8 and a person has no
difficulty in discovering their meaning; this is probably a demon
strative, and, as we had no term with which to translate it, we took
several weeks to discover its meaning.

At first, and for more than two weeks, the child pronounced this
word tern as she did the word papa, without giving to it any precise
meaning; she thus practised dental articulation followed by a labial,
and the thing afforded her some amusement. By degrees the word
became associated in her mind with a definite intention, and at pres
ent it means for her give, take, see, look. She pronounces it very per
fectly, several times in succession, and with earnestness, her aim be
ing now to get some new object which she sees, again to have some
one take her up, or to attract attention to herself. All these meanings
are comprised in the word tern. It may be that it is a form of the
word tiens, which had often been addressed to her in a somewhat
similar sense. But I am rather inclined to suppose that this word was.
coined by herself to express her principal desires, viz., to be taken in

1 When the Romans first saw the elephant they called it the Lucanian ox. Thus, too,
savage tribes that had never before seen a horse gave that animal the title of big hog.
(See Miiller s " Lectures on Darwin s Philosophy of Language.")

2 Lectures on the " Science of Language," sixth edition, vol. i., p. 809.

134 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the arms, to get the objects she wants, and to attract notice. If such
is the case, then this word is a natural vocal gesture. This view is
rendered more probable by the fact that she possesses other words,
of which more anon, and which are evidently the products, not of
imitation, but of invention.

(Fifteenth to seventeenth month). Great progress made; the child
has learned to walk, and even to run. She is gaining new ideas every
day, and understands a number of phrases, such as these: "Fetch the
ball ; " " Go and doudou to the lady" (i. e., fondle her and let her kiss
you) ; " Come and stand between papa s legs ; " " Go down there ; "
" Come here," etc. She is beginning to distinguish between the tone of
anger and that of pleasure; she quits doing anything forbidden with
severe countenance, or with voice expressive of disapproval ; of her own
accord she frequently shows a desire of being fondled. But she has
learned or invented but few new words recently. Her chief new
words are Pa (Paul), Babert (Gilbert), bebe (baby), beee (nanny-goat),
cola (chocolate), oua-oua (anything good to eat), ham (eating, I want
to eat). There are a number of other words which she understands,
but is unable to pronounce, such as grandfather, grandmother. Her
vocal organs, not being sufficiently practised, do not as yet reproduce
all the sounds she knows, and to which she attaches meanings.

Cola (chocolate) was one of the iirst dainties she ever tasted, and
she prefers it to all others. She gets a lozenge daily during her visits
to her grandmother; she knows the box in which the bonbons are
kept, and keeps pointing toward it until it is opened.

Bebe. We have spoken of the curious meaning she at first gave
to this word ; by degrees, under the influence of education, she has
come nearer to its ordinary sense. Other infants have been shown to
her, and called bebe; she herself has also been called by this name;
now she answers to it. She has been shown the reflection of her ow r n
face in a mirror, and told to look at bebe, and now she goes herself to
the glass, and, on seeing the image, laughs and calls "bebef" Start
ing from this, she gives the name of bebe to miniatures, pictures, and
statuettes. Here again education has produced a result that had not
been anticipated : the general character perceived by the child is not
the one that we could have desired her to perceive. "We have taught
her the sound, and she has invented the meaning.

Ham (eating, I want to eat). Here she originated both the sound
and the sense. This sound she first uttered during her fourteenth
month. For weeks I took it to be mere prattle, but at last I noticed
that it was uttered always, without exception, when food was in sight.
Now she never fails to say ham whenever she is hungry or thirsty.
This again is a natural vocal gesture.

Oua-oua. It was not till three weeks ago (end of the sixteenth
month) that she employed this word in the sense of something good
to eat. For a while we did not understand what it meant, for the

LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD. 135

same sound had long been used by her, but always to signify dog. In
this new meaning the sound has oscillated between va-va and oua-oua.
In all probability the sound here written oua-oua is for her twofold,
in accordance with the two different meanings she attaches to it. But
my ear does not detect this difference. The senses of infants, which
are less obtuse than ours, perceive delicate shades which we do not
distinguish. It is worthy of mention that she strictly applies this
term oua-oua to food and drink; the act of eating or drinking is ex
pressed by am, or ham. Thus, when she hears the dinner-bell, she
says am, not oua-oua / but at table, when seated before some article
of food, she says oua-oua, and much less frequently am.

On the other hand, the word tern (give, take, look), of which I
have already made mention, has during the past two months fallen
into desuetude. She never pronounces that word now, nor can I find
that she has replaced it by any other. Doubtless the reason of this
is, that we did not care to learn it : it answered to none of our ideas,
inasmuch as it coupled three very distinct notions.

On summing up the facts already stated we reach the following
conclusions ; it remains for others to modify them by observing other
infants :

At first the infant cries, and employs its vocal organ in the same
way as its limbs, spontaneously and after the manner of reflex action.
Spontaneously, too, and because it finds pleasure in being active, the
infant later exercises its vocal organs in the same way it exercises its
limbs, gaining the perfect use of them by repeated essays and by a
process of selection. From inarticulate it thus passes to articulate
sounds. The variety of intonations which it acquires evinces in the
child great delicacy of impression and of expression ; hence the fac
ulty of forming general ideas. All we do is to aid it in grasping
these ideas by suggesting our words. To these the infant attaches
ideas of its own, generalizing after its own fashion rather than ours.
Sometimes it invents not only the meaning of a word, but the word
itself. Several vocabularies may succeed to one another in its mind,
new words obliterating old ones ; several different significations may
successively be attached to one word ; several words invented by
itself are natural vocal gestures ; in short, it learns a ready-made
language as a true musician learns counterpoint, or as a true poet
learns prosody : the child is an original genius, which adapts itself to
a form built up bit by bit by a succession of original geniuses. If there
existed no language it would discover one, or find an equivalent.

This series of observations was interrupted, owing to the misfor
tunes of the year 1870. The following notes may serve to show the
mental state of an infant : in many respects this state is that of
primitive peoples in the poetical and mythological period

A water-jet, which this infant saw daily for three months, always
gave her new pleasure. The same is to be said of the flow of a river

136 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

as seen from a bridge. The flashing, running water was plainly for
her an object of extraordinary beauty, and she would keep exclaim
ing, " Water, water " (age, twenty months). A little later (thirty
months) she was profoundly impressed on seeing the moon. She
wanted to look at it every night. When she walked abroad it seemed
to her that the moon also was moving, and this discovery gave her de
light ; as the moon made her appearance in different localities, accord
ing to the hour, being seen at one time in front of the house, and again
in the rear, she would exclaim, " Another moon ! another moon ! "
One night (age, three years) she wanted to know where the moon
was, and, on being told that it had. gone to bed, she asked, " Where,
then, is the moon s nurse ? " All this very closely resembles the emo
tions and conjectures of childlike races ; their profound wonderment
in presence of the great phenomena of Nature ; the influence exerted
upon them by analogy, language, and metaphor, leading them to form
myths of the sun, the moon, etc. Suppose such a state of mind to be
universal at any period, and we can readily foresee what religious
ideas and legends would be the result ; in fact, we have instances of
this process of development in the Vedas, the Edda, and even in
Homer.

If we speak to the child of an object at some little distance, but
which she can represent to herself definitely enough, having seen the
object itself or something like it, her first question always is : " What
does it say ? What does the rabbit say ? What does the bird say ?
What does the horse say ? What does the big tree say ? " Whether
it be an animal or a tree, she always treats the object as a person ;
wants to know what it thinks, what it says. By a spontaneous in
duction, she pictures it as like herself or like us humanizes it. This
same tendency is found among primitive races, and it is all the strong
er the more primitive they are.

It requires long time and many an effort for the infant to attain to
ideas which to us appear simple. When this child s doll had its head
broken she was told that now the doll was dead. One day her grand
mother said to her : " I am old, and shall not remain long with you ;
I shall die." " Your head will be broken, then." This she repeated
several times. Even yet (age, three years and one month), to be dead
means, for her, to have a broken head. Day before yesterday a mag
pie that had been killed by the gardener was tied to the top of a pole
for a scarecrow ; on being told that the pie was dead the child wished
to see it. " What does the pie do ? " she asked. " She does noth
ing ; she will never stir again, she is dead." " Oh ! " For the first
time the idea of final immobility has entered her mind. Now let us
suppose a people to stop at this idea, and to have no other definition
of death than this. For them the Beyond will be the Sheol of the
Hebrews the place where the motionless dead live a vague sort of
life. For her yesterday means in the past, and. to-morrow means in

NATURAL TRUMPET OF THE CRANE. 13?

the future; neither of these terms signifies for her just one day.
Here, again, she gives too large a signification to words. And an in
fant scarcely employs a single word that is not destined later to re
ceive a more restricted meaning. Like primitive peoples, infants
incline to conceive large and general ideas. The child presents, in
the transitional state, mental characters which we find in the fixed
state in primitive civilizations, just as the human embryo presents in
the transitional state physical characters which are found in the fixed
state in certain lower classes of animals.

NATURAL TKUMPET OF THE CRANE.

BY FRANK BUCKLAND.

SPORTSMEN and naturalists, both at home and abroad, would do
well to collect not only the skins of birds, but also to search
for any peculiarity which may happen to occur in their internal
structure, especially the bones and the larynx.

Some weeks since, when calling upon my friend Mr. Jamrach, the
animal-dealer, I observed in the back-yard, on the dust-heap, a num
ber of dead birds. Among them was the body of a very large crane.
Mr. Jamrach allowed me to take this home, and I made several prep
arations of it. We now figure the very remarkable trachea, or wind
pipe, of this bird. In an ordinary bird, such as a chicken, when cut
ting open the skin of the throat, it will be found that the trachea forms
a continuous tube, going in a direct line from the mouth to the lungs,
where it bifurcates. In the crane this is not the case. Instead of
passing between the two bones ordinarily known as the merry-thought,
it becomes convoluted in a very remarkable manner. If this convolu
tion had been placed immediately under the skin, first of all it would
have been cumbersome to the bird; and, secondly, there would have
been a great likelihood of ifrs becoming injured. The breastbone,
therefore, has been hollowed out in the middle in such a manner as to
keep the trachea packed up in a beautiful box of bone. Inside this
box of bone there are about thirteen inches of the trachea. The
trachea enters this bony box at its lowest margin ; it then runs along
the bottom and ascends to the top ; then takes a very sharp turn, and
again descending to the bottom of the box joins the lungs in the usual
way. In life this trachea is not fixed in the box, but is capable of ex
tension and prolongation ; in fact, is almost as elastic as India-rubber.

The diagram will explain this.

The curious cartilaginous-like material reminding us of mosaic
work O f w hi cn the trachea is composed, differs much in pattern in its
various portions, the rings being single near the mouth, while a few

1 3 8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

inches farther they appear to be double. A model of them at this part
of the tube can be obtained by locking the fingers of both hands one
into the other. Just as the trachea leaves the bony box it is consider
ably enlarged.

T is the tongue, attached to the bifurcated hyoid bone; LA is the larynx; TE is the trachea
immediately before it buries itself in the peculiar hollow box of bone, A. In this box, as
already described, it becomes convoluted ; then, leaving the box, it enters the cavity of the
chest, and joins the lungs at L.

Of course, the use of this curious structure is to produce those
wonderful sounds which are peculiar to the crane. In fact, it is a
portion of a cornet-d-piston or trombone, and is, no doubt, worked by
some very delicate muscles. I have never had the pleasure of seeing
cranes fly in the air, but I am told that the noise they make is very
wonderful. We read: "Cranes range, according to the season, from
the north of Europe to the south of Asia, and north of Africa, and in
the latter country they are said to extend their migrations as far as
the Cape of Good Hope. On these excursions they fly high in the air,
though they experience some difficulty in getting on the wing from
the ground. Before taking their spring they run some paces, raise
themselves a little at first, and then unfold a powerful and rapid wing.
In the air they form very nearly an isosceles triangle, possibly for the
purpose of cutting the element with greater facility. When attacked

NATURAL TRUMPET OF THE CRANE. 139

by an eagle, or the wind is likely to break their order, they close in
circles. Their passage frequently takes place during the night, which
is known by their sonorous voice, which announces it ; and the head
of the troop often utters, to indicate the route he is taking, a cry of
appeal to which all his followers answer. Their voices, even on these
nocturnal voyages, are exceedingly loud probably owing to the
length of the windpipe and the convolution near its bronchial ex
tremity. When they cry during the day they are generally understood
to forebode rain, as is the case with the cries of many other birds
which feed partially on those worms which the approaching humidity
brings to the surface not only when the rain actually falls, but when,
from the changed state of the air, the evaporation is much diminished.
When they are peculiarly noisy and tumultuous, and fly near the
ground, occasionally alighting, it is considered as a pretty certain in
dication of a tempest. On the other hand, when they rise high, and fly
onward in regular order, it is regarded as a sign of fine weather."

That great observer, Virgil, has used the simile of cranes in flight
in a grand passage in the tenth "JEneid," to give an idea of the Greeks
and Trojans charging each other in the battle-field :

" . . . . Clamorem ad sidera tollunt
Dardanidse e muris : spes addita suscitat iras :
Tela maim jaciunt. Quales sub nubibus atris
Stryraoniss dant signa grues atque sethera tranant
Cum sonitu, fugiuntque Notes clamore secundo."

[The Trojans, from their walls, raise acclamations to the stars. Ad
ditional hope rouses up their fury. Darts from their hands they hurl,
as under the black lowering clouds Strymonian cranes give the signal
and swim along the skies with obstreperous din, and from the stormy
south winds with joyous clamor fly.]

I consider the marvelous natural trumpet of the crane to be a most
beautiful provision given by the Creator to these wild birds to enable
them to keep their ranks, and not lose each other when migrating.
In fact, we men have adopted the idea by using trumpets. It often
happens that the dust at a field-day is so great that very little can be
seen, while it would be impossible for the human voice to be heard ;
trumpets, therefore, come in here of the greatest service, especially to
direct movements of cavalry. In the same way, the cranes might
possibly lose each other when flying in the wilderness of space of the
vast firmament of ether, and, were it not for their being able to signal
to each other, they would be unable to travel with facility either at
night, or when passing through clouds and fogs.

A few days since a valued correspondent in Ireland sent us the
breastbone of a Hooper swan. I have dissected this, and find the
trachea convoluted in a manner very similar to that of the crane.

There is a legend that when a swan is dying he becomes musical

I 4 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The origin of this legend probably is the trumpeting of the wild-swan.
This our friends can hear in the Zoological Gardens ; it is a melancholy
sound, and may be thus written " hwoo hwoo." The tame swan has
not this structure of the windpipe, showing, therefore, that it is a
distinct species. As the trumpet is useful to the crane, so also is it
to the swan. They fly very high, in order that the " hawks should
not gain the sky " of them ; they always fly with the wind, and when
going with a stiff breeze are said to go at a pace of a hundred miles
an hour.

Many of our friends have probably heard that amusing bird, the
trumpeter (Cariama cristata). Mr. Cholmondeley, of Condover, has
a very tame specimen, that wanders all over his house, and goes out
walking in the garden with him. In the trumpeter-bird there is a
musical apparatus of another kind. The note of the trumpeter is very
agreeable to the ear.

I have lately dissected a Merganser. I find that his trachea is also
peculiar: it swells out considerably about the third of its way down,
and at the end it bulges out into a box as large as a walnut. The
common duck has a curious larynx. At the bottom of the windpipe
will be found a bony dilatation. Our readers should examine this for
themselves. The female has not this peculiarity, and, strange to say,
although the drake has this very peculiar organism, he is not able to
quack the females only quack ; the males give a short hiss. My
friend Mr. Bartlett informs me that on one occasion a gentleman sent
him this bony box, which the cook had taken out, and said that it was
the ossified heart of a duck. Land and Water.

PETKOLEUM. 1

BY PROF. H. B. COKNWALL.

A LTHOUGH it has only lately acquired its present important
-<LA_ place among articles of commerce, this valuable product of
Nature s laboratory has been known for ages, and was used for me
dicinal and illuminating purposes in ancient times. The petroleum-
spring of Zante, one of the Ionian Islands, was mentioned by Herod
otus more than 2,000 years ago ; and Pliny says that the oil of a
spring at Agrigentum, Sicily, was used in lamps. The city of Genoa
was formerly lighted from the wells of Amiano, in Parma, Italy.

Prof. A. E. Foote (American Chemist, November, 1872) states that

Peter Kalm, in his "Travels in North America," published in 1772,

gives a map of the Pennsylvania oil-springs in 1771 ; but, according

to H. E. Wrigley, the earliest mention of petroleum in that State

1 Petroleum, literally rock-oil, frompetra, rock, and oleum, oil.

PETROLEUM. MI

occurred in the report of the commander of Fort Duquesne, 1750,
when he witnessed the ceremonies of the Seneca Indians on Oil
Creek. A prominent feature of the ceremonies was the burning of
the oil as it oozed from the ground.

The oil-spring of Cuba, Alleghany County, New York, called the
Seneca Oil-Spring, was described by Prof. Silliman, in 1833, as a dirty
pool, about eighteen feet in diameter, covered with a film of oil, which
was skimmed off from time to time for medicinal purposes. The so-
called Seneca-oil was not from this spring, but from Oil Creek. Hil-
dreth,in 1833, gave an account of the salt-wells of the Little Kanawha
Valley, West Virginia, which he says yielded a little oil. In 1840 a
well at Burkesville, Kentucky, was described as spouting oil at the
estimated rate of seventy-five gallons a minute for a few days, but it
then failed entirely (Dana, " Mineralogy," fifth edition, 1869). In
1844 Mr. Murray mentioned the petroleum of Enniskillen, Canada.

About twenty years ago the manufacture of oil from coal and
bituminous shales, having been widely extended through the labors
of Abraham Gesner and James Young, of Glasgow, began to excite
interest in this country, and, according to S. D. Hayes, the first coal-
oil offered for sale in this country was made by Philbrick & Atwood,
in 1852, at the works of the United States Chemical Manufacturing
Company, Waltham, Massachusetts. It was called coup-oil, after the
recent coup d etat of Louis Napoleon, and was used as a lubricator.

In 1856 the first illuminating oil was made by Mr. Joshua Merrill,
from Trinidad bitumen, according to the same authority. According
to H. E. Wrigley, however, a refinery was started as early as 1850
by Mr. Samuel Kier, of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, for the treatment
of crude petroleum (" Report on Petroleum of Pennsylvania " for the
" Second Geological Survey of Pennsylvania, 1874"). Success being
limited only by the small amount available, search for the oil was
naturally directed to Oil Creek, and in 1858 Messrs. J. G. Eveleth
and George H. Bissell, of New York City, leased one hundred acres
of land near Titusville, on the northern border of Venango County,
Pennsylvania, and engaged Colonel E. L. Drake, of New Haven,
Connecticut, to bore a well. On the 28th of August, 1859, he struck
oil at a depth of seventy-one feet (according to some authorities
sixty-nine and a half feet), and a pump was adjusted which produced
twenty-five barrels a day.

In 1861 the first flowing well was struck by Mr. Funk, on the
M Elhenny Farm, Oil Creek, at a depth of 400 feet. Soon after two
more wells were sunk (the Phillips and Empire), flowing 3,000 bar
rels each daily. Since 1858, in round numbers, 10,500 wells have been
bored in Pennsylvania, and oil-wells also exist in West Virginia,
Ohio, Kentucky, and elsewhere, with results that will be stated here
after.

It would not be proper to leave the history of petroleum without

1 4 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mentioning Prof. B. Silliman s report on Pennsylvania petroleum to
Messrs. Eveleth, Bissell & Reed, 1855.

He examined the rock-oil or petroleum of Venango County, and,
long before the present processes of refining had been introduced,
suggested several very important processes, which have been since
followed in its treatment ; such as distillation by steam, " cracking,"
or breaking up of the heavier oils into lighter compounds, its use for
making gas, for illuminating purposes, for lubricating, etc.

COMPOSITION. Petroleum is a mixture of several hydrocarbons,
and contains also bituminous materials, sulphur, carbonaceous mat
ter, sand, and clay. Its odor is generally offensive. The color and
specific gravity vary greatly. The crude petroleum of Pennsylvania
is generally dark-green with a brownish tinge by reflected light ; the
color of thin layers by transmitted light varies from dark-yellowish
to reddish-brown. The oil of Enniskillen is blackish-brown ; of
Mecca, Ohio, yellow ; in the neighborhood of Shamburg, Venango
County, Pennsylvania, " black " and " green " oils occur side by side
in the same districts ; the lubricating oil of White Oak, West Vir
ginia, is yellow ; that from Amiano, Italy, is red to straw-color ; at
Baku the light oil is clear and faint yellow. Pennsylvania petroleum
is somewhat thick, like thin sirup, but, although stiffened somewhat
by cold, is always fluid. The oil of Pagan, Burmah, is very light,
resembling naphtha, as is some of that from Baku.

The specific gravities of different petroleums are as follows :
White Oak, West Virginia, 28 to 40 Beaume ; Mecca, Ohio, 26 to
27 ; Franklin, Pennsylvania, 30 to 32 ; Cuba, New York, 32 ; Tidi-
oute,43; Pit-Hole, 51 ; Pomeroy, Ohio, 51; Russia, 28 to 40.
The heavy oils command, as a rule, a higher price. Although there
is no certainty about their occurrence, the heavy oils have been fre
quently found at a higher level than the light oils in Pennsylvania,
so that this was at one time supposed to be the rule.

The constituents of the mixture known as petroleum are separated
from each other by fractional distillation ; with care they can be iso
lated in quite a pure state, but in practice they undergo various de
compositions, and are frequently to be regarded rather as products
than as educts of the operations. Some are gaseous at ordinary
temperatures, others are liquid, and others solid. They are divided
into two classes : one having the formula C n H 2n -f 2 , and belonging to
the marsh-gas, or paraffine series ; the other, with the formula C n II 2n ,
belonging to the ethylene series (olefines). They have been carefully
investigated by Pelouze and Cahours, Warren, Schorlemmer, and
Ronalds, and the results obtained by them are given in the following
table, partly compiled from the review of the subject by Prof. S. P.
Sadtler, in Prof. Genth s " Report on the Mineralogy of Pennsylvania"
(" Second Geological Survey, 1874 "). The letters F, R, W, P and C,
and S, indicate the observers, Fouque, Ronalds, Warren, Pelouze and

PETROLEUM.

H3

Cahours, and Schorlemmer. The first and second were found by
Fouque in gaseous exhalations from petroleum-wells at Petrolia (and
Fredonia, New York) ; the third in similar exhalations from wells at
Pioneer Run.

MARSH-GAS SERIES.-FOEMULA C B H a + a .

No.

NAME.

Formula.

Carbon.

Hydrogen.

Boi ling-
Point (C.).

Specific
Grav. (Oo C.).

Observer.

1

Methyl hydrid (methan). .

H 4

75

25

A gas.

.559

F.

2

Ethyl hydrid (aethan)

C 3 H 6

80

20

F.

8

Propyl hydrid (propan) . . .

CqH

81.81

18.19

-17

F. K.

4

Butyl h. "(normal butan). .

C 4 H 10

82.8

17.2

.600

W.

5*

Pseudo-butan

t

U

U

17

.6

Amyl h. (normal peutan) .

C 5 H 12

83.83

16.67

37-39

.645

W.

7
8
9

Dimethyl-propan
Hexyl h. (normal hexan). .
JSthyl-isobutyl

C 6 H 14

83.72

16.28

30.2
68.5
61 3

.626 (17<>)
^9
.676

P. & C., W., 9

P.&C,W,S.

10

Heptyl h. (normal septan).

C 7 H 16

84

16

9S .l

.130

W., 3.

11

90.4

.718

We

12

Octyl h. (normal octan). . .

C 8 H 18

84.21

15.79

127.6

!752

., O.

w.

13

An isomer of No. 12

119.5

.787

W., P. & C.

14

Nonyl hydrid (nonan) ....

C 9 H 20

84.88

15.62

150.8

.756

w.

Pelouze and Cahours carry the marsh-gas series to C 15 H 32 , but
Warren concluded that it terminates with C fl H 20 , and that the oils of
higher density and atomic numbers belong to the ethylene series.

On inspecting the above table it will be seen that numbers 4, 7, 9,
11, 13, and 14, have a common difference of about 30 C. between each
in succession, in regard to their boiling-points ; and that numbers
6, 8, 10, and 12, have a similar common difference, and are each about
8 higher in their boiling-points than the ones next below them. On
this account, Warren divided them into two groups ; but he included
here another C 4 H 10 , with a boiling-point of 8 to 9, which is, according
to Sadtler, a mixture of the two given in the table.

Besides the members of the marsh-gas series given above, Ameri
can petroleum yields liquids boiling above 300 C., which on cooling
yield a solid mass called paraffine, white and transparent when pure.
It probably is a mixture of the higher members of the series C n H 2n+2 ,
and on heating in a sealed tube is converted into a mixture of several
paraffines and olefines of lower molecular weight, liquid at ordinary
temperatures (Fownes).

Of the ethylene series, Warren has found in Pennsylvania petro
leum, decylene, C 10 H 20 , boiling-point 174.9 ; undecylene, C n H aa , boil
ing-point 195.8; and bidecylene, C 12 H 24 , boiling-point 216.2; these
have a difference of about 20 C. in their successive boiling-points.

No higher series of hydrocarbons is yet known from Pennsylva
nia petroleum, bat members of the benzol series, C n H 2n _ 6 , have been
found in other petroleums. Thus De la Rue and Mtiller, in 185C,
found benzol, toluol, and xylol, in Rangoon tar ; Bussenius and Eisen-
stuck discovered xylol in petroleum from Sehnde, Hanover; Pebal
and Freund detected benzol, C 6 H 6 , toluol, C 7 H 8 , xylol, C 8 H 10 , cumol,
C 9 H 12 , and cymol, C ]0 H 14 , in naphtha from Boroslaw, Galicia; De .la
1 Not yet obtained in a pure state.

144 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Rue and Milller found naphthaline, C 10 H 8 , in Rangoon tar ; and, finai
ly, a member of the anthracene series, C n H 2n _ 18 , has been found in the
last products of the distillation of petroleum for paraffine-oil. It is
probably formed by destructive distillation of the petroleum, and has
been called thallene or viridine by Prof. H. Morton, who investigated
especially its fluorescent character.

Petroleum undergoes alteration by evaporation of its lighter con
stituents, leaving viscid or solid bitumen, containing more or less
paraffine ; by oxidation of some hydrogen, giving rise to ethylenes,
benzols, or naphthalenes ; and, by the additional absorption of oxygen,
forming true asphaltum. Of this latter class are the grahamite of
West Virginia and the albertite of Nova Scotia. The grahamite I
believe to have been altered before reaching its present level, for rea
sons which cannot be given here. Mr. W. P. Jenney has made some
interesting experiments on the oxygenation of petroleum and the for
mation of artificial oxygenated hydrocarbons resembling natural
products (American Chemist, April, 1875).

OCCURRENCE OF PETKOLEUM. It occurs in rocks of nearly all ages,
from the Lower Silurian up; most abundantly in shales and sand
stones ; also to some extent in limestones. Sometimes it impreg
nates the whole stratum ; sometimes it collects in subterranean cavi
ties and fissures. In the Rangoon and Caspian regions the oil oc
curs near the surface in clayey soil, and collects in shallow pits. A
noted foreign locality is Ye-nan-gyoung, in Burmah, where the wells
are narrow shafts, 180 to 300 feet deep, and large enough for a
man to work in. The oil is drawn up with a bucket and windlass,
and as many as 1,000,000 barrels are annually obtained. In Persia
oil is largely found at Baku, on the west shore of the Caspian ; China
yields a small amount of oil; Japan has small and undeveloped
districts ; New Zealand, also, shows indications. In the Caucasus,
Russia, surface-wells have long been worked, and lately wells have
been sunk with great success. In Galicia, Austria, are wells yielding
largely ; arid Alsace and Hanover have produced some oil. Petro
leum has likewise been found in Peru, Ecuador, Southern Mexico, San
Domingo, Trinidad, and Nova Scotia, in small quantities.

The petroleum district of Canada West is in Lambton, Bothwell,
and Kent Counties (H. E. Wrigley), and in Ontario. The average
production is not over 2,500 barrels daily. It occurs mainly in the
Corniferous limestone of the Lower Devonian, but is also found in
greater or less quantity in the Bird s-eye limestone of the Lower Si
lurian, and the Lower Helderberg limestone of the Upper Silurian.
The cavities of Orthocerata in the Trenton limestone (Lower Silu
rian) at Pakenham, Canada, frequently hold small quantities of petro
leum. In Canada East there is a petroleum district on the St. John s
River, not far from Gaspe" Bay.

In the United States oil is very abundant in Western Pennsylva-

PETROLEUM. H5

nia, and has been found in considerable quantity in West Virginia,
Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee. It has also been found, but in small
quantities, in Xew York State, near Chicago, in Michigan, Indiana,
Colorado, and California. The oil of Southern California comes from
Tertiary shales, and is said to contain no paraffine.

The Upper Oil-Region of Pennsylvania begins in the vicinity of
Tidioute, on the Alleghany, in Warren County, and runs southwest
to Titusville, thence nearly south, along Oil Creek, into Yenango
County to Oil City, and thence southwest to Franklin. East Sandy,
on East Sandy Creek, is at the extreme southeast edge of this field,
and forms the only connecting link between the upper and lower oil
fields of the State. The principal points in this upper region are Tidi
oute, Triumph, and Economy, in the Tidioute District ; West Hick
ory, New London ; the Titusville District, including the Drake well ;
Church Run, Pit-Hole, Shamburg, Petroleum Centre, Rouseville (be
tween these two places were the Blood well, of 1,000 barrels daily,
and the Phillips well, which once flowed 3,940 barrels in twenty-four
hours, and has produced over 500,000 barrels), Oil City, Sage Run,
and Franklin. The Valley of Oil Creek, within a length of twenty
miles, produced over $110,000,000 worth of oil, from an actual area
of less than three square miles.

The Lower Oil Belt begins at Triangle City, Beaver Creek, Clarion
County, and runs southwest twenty-one miles to St. Joe, in Butler
County, and is the greatest producing area so far found (II. E. Wrig-
ley, op. cit.}. In 1866 rock with some oil was struck at Brady s
Bend at a depth of 1,100 feet, giving rise to further investigation of
the river above, which resulted in the discovery of a sand-rock of
57 feet thickness, at a depth of 960 feet, on the Alleghany River at
Parker s Landing. A number of wells that had been supposed fail
ures were afterward drilled to the proper depth, with great results.

The oil-bearing rock of Pennsylvania is a sand-rock, of which dif
ferent strata are struck at different depths.

The operators speak of these as the first sand, second sand, and
so on. After going through loose soil and a shale or slate-rock, the
first sand is struck generally near the surface in the upper oil-regions
(at a depth of 71 feet in the case of the first well sunk, the Drake
well) ; 100 to 200 feet below this is the second sand ; at 300 to 400
feet more the third sand, and then a fourth and fifth sand at inter
vals of about 150 feet. These sand-rocks are generally light-col
ored, and are separated by slate and other dark sand-rocks.

The heavy oil of Franklin comes from a sand-rock 260 feet deep,
and from 50 to 80 feet in thickness. The tower sand-rocks are said
to produce very bright, pure oils. Only 39.5 square miles of the
3,115 miles of the oil-region of Pennsylvania are actually productive.

The West Virginia oil-wells occur along an anticlinal extending
from the borders of Southern Ohio through Wood, Wirt, and Ritchie

VOL. IX. 10

146 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Counties, between thirty-live and forty miles. No oil is found in the
horizontal rocks, but it occurs along the disturbed and broken, tilted
strata on the edges of the line of uplift. This same belt runs north
into Ohio, through Washington and Morgan Counties into Noble
County. Volcano, White Oak, and Burning Springs are the principal
points in West Virginia. The oil is found in subcarboniferous rocks,
ascending to them, from the underlying Devonian.

In Ohio there is another oil-belt, west of the above, beginning in
Perry and Morgan Counties on the north, and running south through
Athens into Meigs County; and in Cuyahoga and Trumbull Counties
are oil-regions closely related to those of Western Pennsylvania. The
" Mecca " oil, a valuable lubricating oil, occurs in the Mecca Oil Rocks
(Berea grit and Bedford shales) of Trumbull County, Ohio. The total
production of Ohio and West Virginia is not over 500 barrels daily
(Wrigley).

The Kentucky oil-district is mainly in Barren and Cumberland
Counties, with a small adjoining tract south of it in Overton County,
Tennessee. A well in Cumberland County, 191 feet deep, produced
300 barrels daily. The abundant supply from Pennsylvania and the
difficulty of transportation have prevented these regions from becom
ing well known.

ORIGIN AND SOURCE OP PETROLEUM. At first it was held by many
that petroleum was a result of distillation from the bituminous coals,
which were found in its vicinity, and this belief was strengthened by
the fact that some of the very bituminous coals, such as Cannel and
Boghead coal, afforded large quantities of similar oils on being dis
tilled; but, although this is very probably the source of a small
amount of oil, yet the larger part of it is now believed to derive its
origin from rocks lying below the coal-measures, since the oil-bearing
rocks are mostly older than the carboniferous formations.

Some investigators have ascribed a vegetable origin to petroleum,
but most authorities agree in attributing it to animal as well as vege
table agencies. Shales are the most common oil-bearing rocks, and in
their formation the organic materials would be finely divided and
protected from oxidation. The oil-bearing shales commonly show
few vegetable remains, and Dana observes that the absence of distinct
fossil animal and vegetable remains points to an abundance of delicate
water-plants or infusorial or microscopic vegetable life as the source
of the organic material contained in them. Limestones, on the other
hand, are frequently full of animal fossil remains, showing an animal
origin for the oil in them, although it is by no means agreed that the
petroleum in certain limestones was derived from organic remains in
the limestones and not from other strata below them. In whatever
shape the finely-divided material was originally present, it would be
finely diffused through the mud, and protected from atmospheric agen-
,cies, and subsequently the hydrocarbons would be formed from them,

PETROLEUM. H7

probably at but a slight elevation of temperature, produced by the
same agencies which have caused elevations in the temperature of the
interior of the earth s crust at various points.

Dana has further pointed out how petroleum might be formed by
the reactions of the organic vegetable remains alone, the abstrac
tion of some carbon and oxygen, as carbonic acid, accounting for the
formation of the lighter oils ; while the escape of some marsh-gas from
less confined material would account for the heavier oils.

Newberry attributes the disagreeable smell of some limestone-oil
to its animal origin, and Dufrenoy alludes to the abundance of fish
fossils as a proof that the oil of various European districts was derived
from animal remains.

As regards the circumstances favoring the accumulation of petro
leum, it appears that there should be a shale or other fine-grained
rock forming to protect the organic matter during its deposition, a
porous stratum above to be penetrated by the hydrocarbons resulting
from the decomposition of the organic matter, and finally another
shale or slate above, to prevent the further escape of the volatile prod
ucts. If the sand-rock which usually forms the porous stratum is
filled with fissures, large quantities of oil may collect in these.

The petroleum of Enniskillen, Canada, is ascribed by Hunt to the
Corniferous limestone of the Lower Devonian. Many geologists as
cribe the oil of Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, and the rest of
this grand oil area, to the black shale or Genesee slate of the Middle
Devonian. Dr. J. S. Newberry, in his " Report of the Geological
Survey of Ohio," says of the Huron (black) shale of the Middle Devo
nian in Ohio, that it is bituminous, and contains sheets of asphalt or
asphaltic coal. Oil and gas springs are associated with its outcrop,
and there is reason to believe that it supplies the wells of Oil Creek,
Pennsylvania. Hydrocarbons are the product of spontaneous distilla
tion in the outcrops of the Huron shale in Ohio. It shows traces of
marine vegetation, and represents the Gardeau shale of New York,
with whatever there is in Ohio of the underlying Genesee slate. Its
materials appear to have accumulated in a quiet water-basin, being
marine and not terrestrial vegetation. It forms a vast repository of
hydrocarbonaceous matter, yielding ten to twenty gallons of oil per
ton by distillation.

A line of oil and gas springs marks its outcrop, from Central New
York to Tennessee. Emanations of oil and gas occurring from Lower
Silurian rocks at Collingwood,. Canada, and on the Upper Cumberland
River, Kentucky, are associated with similar deposits of black shale
representing the Utica shale (Lower Silurian) of New York. The
wells of Oil Creek penetrate strata immediately overlying the Huron
shale, and the oil is obtained from fissured and porous sheets of sand
stone of the Portage and Chemung groups, which lie just over the
Huron and offer convenient reservoirs for the oil it furnishes. It is a

148 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

well-known fact that wells sunk into the black shale yield no consider
able quantity of oil, unless from strata resting upon it.

The foregoing statements, it will be seen, go to substantiate the
theory upheld by Newberry, in common with other geologists, that
the strata yielding much oil have only served to store the oil which
comes from other strata below. T. S. Hunt holds that the petroleum
of the limestone of Ontario, Canada, and other localities is largely the
result of decomposition of the organic matters in these same rocks, and
not of distillation from below. This view Newberry opposes on the
following grounds : The Corniferous limestone, from his very extended
observations, contains little hydrocarbons ; oil and gas springs are
rare where it underlies the surface ; no considerable quantity of petro
leum has been derived from wells in the Corniferous, Niagara, or any
other limestone ; even at Chicago there are no paying wells. Borings
have been unsuccessful in Ohio wherever the Corniferous is the surface
rock ; and, further, there is no Corniferous limestone where Hunt cites
it in Kentucky. There is positive proof that part of the oil comes
from a lower horizon, and probably the Canada oil comes from under
lying Silurian Collingwood shale. On Oil Creek are the argillaceous
shales of the Waverley and Chemung strata, forming the sides and
bottom of the valley, and below are several beds of sandstone, with
the black shales of the Portage and Genesee still lower. In Ohio
these favorable conditions are wanting ; the sand-rocks of Oil Creek
thin out and give place to fine, impervious, argillaceous shales; the
strata become more homogeneous and free from crevices, and hence
the oil cannot penetrate them so well. In Cuyahoga County, Ohio,
the wells reach down through carboniferous recks to the Huron shale,
but there are no good wells, because the sandstone reservoirs are lack
ing, and only close-grained shales are present.

Hunt, on the other hand, holds that the petroleum of Southwest
Ontario, and probably in other localities, is to be sought in the olifer-
ous limestones of the Corniferous and Niagara formations, both of
which abound in indigenous petroleum (American Journal of Sci
ence, III., ii., 369), which, in the case of the Ontario limestone, he
shows cannot have come from overlying strata. He also mentions a
well sunk at Terre Haute, Indiana, 1,900 feet deep, which yields two
barrels of oil daily ; and a second one, very near, which yields 25
barrels. This one is 1,625 feet deep, and passes through 700 feet of
coal-measures, 700 feet of carboniferous limestone, with underlying
sandstone and shales, 50 feet of Genesee slate (or its equivalent), and
at a depth of 25 feet below this the oil-vein was met with in Cornif
erous limestone. A third well, a mile east, at a depth of 2,000 feet
showed no oil.

The truth seems to be, that these limestones may contain a little
petroleum indigenous to them, but they have not furnished the grand
supplies of very produotive regions. Before leaving this part of the

PETROLEUM.

149

subject, mention should be made of the gas which so generally accom
panies the oil. It is often met with in the oil-regions when no oil is
struck, producing "gas-wells;" and is also met with where no oil, or
very little, is found, on the borders of the oil-districts. Many private
residences and manufacturing establishments are heated and lighted
by this gas ; Fredonia, New York, has been lighted with it for years.
The Newton gas-well, five miles south of Titusville, Pennsylvania, is
786 feet deep, and yielded 4,000,000 cubic feet per day, supplying
light and fuel to a great number of dwellings and manufactories in
Titusville. A rolling-mill near Pittsburg is run by gas brought
from Butler County, a distance of about nineteen miles, and when it
is not needed the gas is lighted, furnishing a jet of flame seventy feet
high, which, with another jet from a neighboring mill, furnishes a
grand spectacle at night.

This gas is the cause of spouting-vvells. If a well is sunk into the
top of a fissure containing oil and gas, the gas will first escape, and
then the oil must be pumped out ; but, if the well strikes in the oil,
the pressure of the gas would first drive out the oil. If water also
was present and the well struck the bottom of the fissure the heavier
water would first escape, then the oil, and then the gas. Such a well,
after standing a while would again yield oil on pumping, then perhaps
water only, or water and oil, until it had had another rest. If the
supply of gas is kept up by an open crevice, the well may continue to
flow for some time. The pressure of neighboring water may also
cause the oil to flow from a well. Generally the pumping-wells are
pretty constant, although when a number of wells are bored near
together they interfere with each other, and sometimes water poured
down one well will appear in another, and this method has been
pursued to bring rival well-owners to terms.

A few words may here be said about drilling wells and transport
ing the oil. The wells are drilled by means of drilling-tools like
those used in sinking artesian wells, which are suspended by a cable,
and operated by small steam-engines. The well is lined with wrought-
iron tubing, screwed together in sections, and, to prevent water from
flowing down the outside of the lining into the well, a water-packer is
used, which is essentially a circular piece of leather with the edges
cut and turned upward, so that the whole forms a cup about the tube,
which is pressed tightly against the sides of the well by the weight
of the column of water. It is much better than the old flaxseed bag.
The oil is conveyed from the oil-district to the refineries and shipping-
stations by means of wrought-iron pipes, two to four inches in diam
eter, which form a network throughout the entire country, and have
an aggregate length of nearly 2,000 miles. One company carries the
oil thirty-seven miles, in this way, from Butler County to the vicinity
of Pittsburg.

REFINING AND USES OF PETROLEUM. Crude petroleum contains

ISO THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

gases and volatile liquids giving off at ordinary temperatures gases,
which form explosive mixtures with air; heavy oils, which injure its
burning properties, but are useful as furnishing lubricators and paraf-
fine ; tarry and carbonaceous matters ; sulphur and other compounds,
which give an offensive odor when burned. It is therefore refined by
distillation, to separate the useful products in a pure state. The general
features of the process will be best illustrated by a practical example,
and for this purpose we have selected the well-known refinery of
Charles Pratt & Co., at Greenpoint, Long Island, manufacturers of
Pratt s Astral Oil. This establishment has a capacity of 15,000
barrels weekly.

The crude oil, coming mostly from Pennsylvania, with a specific
gravity of 46 to 48 Beaume, is run into horizontal cylindrical stills
of wrought-iron, heated by anthracite fires. Eight of these stills have
a capacity of 600 barrels each, and there are eight smaller ones.
From these stills pipes lead to large worms, cooled by running
water, and connected with a series of small tanks, so that the prod
ucts from each still can be separately collected, and the successive
portions that come from the still can be kept apart, according to their
specific gravity.

At about 160 Fahr. (70 C.) the gases begin to come off abun
dantly, and these are conducted from the lower end of the worms to
heat the steam-boilers. At about 225 Fahr. (107 C.) gasoline, hav
ing a specific gravity of 85 B., begins to run from the worm ; after
an hour and a half, at a temperature of 325 Fahr. (163 C.) naphtha
begins to run, with a density of 74 B., and continues for about three
hours; at 350-400 Fahr. (177-200 C.) benzine, with a density of
62 B., begins and runs about one hour. For the remainder of the
heat, about thirty hours, illuminating oil is collected, with a density
of 48-50 B., and ending with a temperature of 750 Fahr. (398 C.).
The residuum, having a density of 20 B., is drawn off and shipped in
barrels to the paraffine and lubricating oil-works. Steam is then run
into the still for nearly two hours to remove the gas, the man-hole is
opened, and the coke scraped off to be used for fuel.

The results of this operation are about as follows :

Gasoline 3 per cent.

Naphtha 10 " u

Benzine 3 " "

Illuminating oil 75 " "

Residuum. 4 " "

Coke and loss 5 " "

Total 100

The residuum yields by subsequent treatment paraffine to the
amount of about one per cent, of the crude petroleum.

The illuminating oil comes from the worm at a temperature of

PETROLEUM. 151

about 80 Fahr. (49 C.) and is pumped from the receiving-tank into
the agitator, an immense cylindrical tank of boiler-iron, holding 1,800
barrels (a smaller one holds 500), where it is cooled (if necessary) to
60 Fahr. by water run in at the top by sprinkling from a hose, and
drawn off below. Forty-four gallons of strong commercial sulphuric
acid being added for every 100 barrels of oil, the mixture is agitated
by air pumped in through a pipe leading down through the oil to the
bottom. This is done by an engine, and produces a very thorough mixt
ure, during which the temperature rises, and when it reaches 70 Fahr.
(21 C.) the operation is ended. Water is then played upon the top
for about three hours, when caustic-soda lye of 20 B. is added, in the
proportion of 500 gallons to 1,800 barrels of oil, thoroughly agitated
with the oil, and then drawn off at the bottom after settling. The
sulphuric acid purifies the oil partly by combining with, partly by
breaking up, the injurious compounds, and the soda is added to neu
tralize the acid. Finally, the oil is again washed with water and
drawn off into bleaching-pans, of which one has a capacity of 2,000
barrels, and two others of 750 each. Here the oil is left under a roof
and exposed to diffused daylight four or five hours, to improve its
color, and is then removed to the storage-tanks. It is possible to
expose the oil too long in the bleachers, injuring its color. It is a
curious fact, noticed in several refineries, that the oil, after removal
to the agitator and before treatment with the acid, sometimes gives
off spontaneously inflammable gas, which has been known to take fire
during the cooling with water.

The gasolene is used for making gas. The naphtha and benzine
destined for the market are kept separate, but sometimes they are
further treated at the refinery, and are then run together, and sent to
the naphtha-works with a density of 68 to 70 B. Here they are
treated in iron stills of 200 to 600 barrels capacity, heated by coal.
The vapors are condensed in a series of three worms, and the opera
tion is so managed that the various products are obtained of the re
quired density. These products are gasolene, of 90 (sometimes 97),
88, and 86 B. ; naphtha, of 76 and 71; benzine, of 65 and 62.
Most of the benzine shipped is of the latter density. The barrels
used for shipping all of these products are coated inside with glue.

The residuum is either " cracked " in special stills (a process of
which we shall have more to say hereafter) or it is sold to be worked
up for lubricating oils and paraffine.

Mr. Joshua Merrill, manufacturing chemist of the Downer Kero
sene Oil Company, has made several very important discoveries in the
treatment of petroleum, and a short account of them has been given in
a " Memoir on Petroleum Products," communicated to the Society of
Arts, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, by S. D. Hayes, March
14, 1872, from which some facts are here selected :

Neutral lubricating oil, free from offensive odors and tastes, was

152 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

partly the result of an accident. The condenser of a still heated by
direct fire and charged with 900 gallons of mixed heavy and light
oils, became partially closed, and the pressure caused leakage at the
bottom of the still. The fire was very gradually drawn, after 250
gallons of light oil had passed oft* The next day the oil in the still
was found to be light-yellow, nearly odorless, neutral, and dense ;
the light, odorous hydrocarbons having been removed, at this low
temperature, without decomposing either the distillate or the oil in
the still. Further experiments perfected the process, which is greatly
aided by the admission of steam from an open pipe into the body of
the still during distillation.

Mineral sperm-oil was the result of experiments by Messrs. J. and
R. S. Merrill on burning heavy lubricating oil and paraffine in lamps,
especially constructed for the purpose. The light was very r good, but
the liquid was too thick to ascend into the wick. To obviate this
the oil was subjected to a partially destructive distillation, " crack
ing " it enough to render it mobile, but not volatile.

The manner in which the crude petroleum is treated to obtain
these various products is briefly outlined here from Prof. Hayes s
sketch : The crude oil is heated by steam in upright, wrought-iron
cylinders, incased in wood, of 12,000 gallons capacity. About 15
per cent, of distillate passes off and is condensed in pipes surrounded
by water, yielding gasolene and A, B, and C naphthas, which are
separately collected. From the gasolene rhigolene can be obtained
by a second distillation w r ith steam-heat, condensing the first portions
of the distillate by ice and salt; ten per cent, is obtained from the
gasolene. The steamed oil is pumped from the naphtha-stills into
small stills, holding 1,000 gallons each, and heated by direct fires.
Only carbon remains in these stills, some uncondensable gas escapes,
and the other products are : No. 1, crude illuminating oil ; No. 2, in
termediate oils; No. 3, crude lubricating oil. Each of these is redis
tilled in the same sort of still. No. 1 is agitated with sulphuric acid,
then w r ith caustic soda, and distilled, yielding 80 per cent, of its
volume of finished kerosene (refined illuminating oil) and mineral
sperm-oil, and nearly 20 per cent, of denser oil. No. 2 is at once
redistilled, yielding chiefly crude lubricating oil. No. 3 is agitated
with sulphuric acid and then distilled with caustic soda in the still,
yielding mainly dense paraifine-oil. This is kept in wooden barrels in
ice-houses from seven to ten days, and deposits crystalline parafline,
which is pressed in strong cloth bags, one above another, with sheet-
iron between, and yields crude paraftine-wax and heavy oil. The
paraffine is repeatedly recrystallized from solution in naphtha and
pressed, until it is white and pure enough for sale. The heavy oil is
heated in stills by direct fires, slowly increased, but kept as low
as possible, and generally with the admission of steam, until 20
to 30 per cent, has passed over. The residue is ready for sale,

PETROLEUM. 153

having only a slight odor like that of fat-oils, while the hydrocarbons
that are condensed after passing over have a very offensive odor.
The very last distillates from all of the destructive distillations are
called " cokings," and are distilled by themselves, yielding mainly
crude lubricating oil. The carbon separated in the stills contains
some caustic soda, which can be obtained as carbonate by burning
the carbon and lixiviating the ashes. The sulphuric acid used in
agitating the oils is known as " sludge," and is sometimes sold to the
makers of superphosphate of lime, although it has been occasionally
successfully reconverted into oil of vitriol. The following list in
cludes ,the commercial products which have been made from petro
leum, being those already mentioned, with the exception of cymo-
gene, which is distilled from gasolene, and condensed by a pump :

1. Cymogene, specific gravity 110 Beaunie ; boils at 32 F. (0 C.) ;
used in ice-machines. 2. Rhigolene, sp. gr. 100 B. ; boils at 65 F.
(18.3 C.) ; extremely volatile, producing by its rapid evaporation a
temperature of 19 F. ; used as a local anesthetic. 3. Gasolene,
sp. gr. 97, 90, 88, and 86 B., as required by the market. The very
light gasolene is ordered in small quantities, probably for ice-machines.
The others are used in gas-machines, for which they are admirably
adapted, and for various exceedingly dangerous lamps and stoves
designed for their combustion. 4. Naphtha, sp. g. 70 to 76 B. ;
boils at 180 F. (27 C.), when of 70 gravity; used in manufacture of
oil-cloths, cleansing, as a solvent for paraffine, etc. ; sometimes fraudu
lently mixed with the higher-priced illuminating oils, or with crude
petroleum, to be again sold to the refiner ; also sold, under various
names, as a burning-fluid, notwithstanding the certain danger attend
ing its use. 5. Benzine, sp. gr. 65 to 62 B. ; the boiling-point for
65 B. is 300 F. (149 C.) ; used in making paints and varnishes. 9.
Illuminating oil (kerosene), sp. gr. 45 to 50 B. ; boiling-point for
45 B. is 350 F. (177 C.). " Astral " oil and " mineral sperm " are
particularly safe varieties, freed with care from explosive compounds.
7. Lubricating oil. ;< Neutral " lubricating oil has a specific gravity
of 29 B., and boils at 575 F. (301.5 C.). 8. Paraffine, sp. gr. 0.87 ;
fusing-point for commercial paraffine about 110 to 150 F. (43.3 to
65 C.), according to its purity ; boiling-point about 698 F. (370 C.) ;
used for making water-proof fabrics, candles, lubricators, matches,
chewing-gum, etc.

The refined illuminating oil should be free from more volatile
compounds, which cause it to give off vapors that explode when
mixed with air and ignited. Dr. White, President of the New Orleans
Board of Health, found that, on adding to oil which " flashed " at
113 F. one per cent, of naphtha, the mixture flashed at 103 ; with
two per cent, at 92 ; with five per cent, at 83 ; with 20 per cent, the
oil itself burned at 50 ("Report on Petroleum to New York Board
of Health," Dr. C. F. Chandler, 1871). Dr. Chandler has found that

154 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the temperature of the oil in an ordinary glass oil-lamp ranges from
76 to 98 F., and in a metal lamp from 76 to 129 F., the lower limits
being for rooms heated between 73 and 74 F., and the higher for a
temperature of 90 to 92. It is, therefore, evident that an oil giving
off explosive gases at less than 100 F. must be dangerous, and even
at 110 F. an accident might occur, but only in exceptional circum
stances.

The oils must, therefore, stand a certain test, called the " flashing
test," which consists in heating them, preferably, in a thin metal or
glass cup which holds the oil, and is itself placed in another vessel full
of cold water, which is gradually heated by a small spirit-lamp. The
bulb of a thermometer is kept well immersed beneath the surface of the
oil, draughts are to be avoided, and the heat very slowly raised. From
time to time, as the flashing-point is approached, the temperature is
noted, and a very small flame, as a gas-jet issuing from a glass tube
drawn to a fine point, is quickly passed across its surface, taking care
not to touch the oil. A faint blue flame will flash across the oil when
it reaches a temperature at which explosive gases are given off. Al
though it is generally agreed that the temperature should be very
gradually raised, fifteen minutes being allowed for a test, yet Calvert
(Chemical News, May, 1870) states that an oil which flashed at 90
F., after fifteen minutes, showed a flashing-point of 101, when thirty
minutes were consumed in making the test. Oil of 100 is not safe
absolutely. There is another test called the burning-test, the point at
which an oil will take fire and burn ; it is from 10 to 50 F. above the
flashing-test (Chandler), and is of little value in determining the safety
of an oil, because, as already shown, the addition of one per cent, of
naphtha will lower the flashing-test 10 in a good oil, while it would
not materially affect the burning-point. From the directions already
given for testing oil any one can readily make the test, and in view
of the large number of unsafe oils sold it is very important that such
tests should be made before using an oil not known to be safe.

The subject of refining petroleum may be dismissed with a few
words more about " cracking " oils. It is the object of the refiner to
make as much illuminating oil as possible, and to do this advantage
is taken of the fact that, when the vapors of heavy oils are heated
above their boiling-points, carbon is deposited, and the condensed
hydrocarbons resulting have a less specific gravity. This decompo
sition is technically called " cracking," and it was observed long ago
that in distilling the heavier oils lighter hydrocarbons were obtained
during the first stages of the operation, even when not wanted.
Cracking can be accomplished by distilling the oils under pressure,
or, as is the case in the very large stills now employed, by allowing
the vapors of the heavier hydrocarbons, on condensing, to flow down
again upon the now hotter oil in the still, whereby they are cracked,
depositing carbon. By carefully adapting the heat to the changing

PETROLEUM. 155

character of the oil, the yield of illuminating oil can be increased, but
a residuum is always left in the large stills to be afterward treated in
smaller ones.

S. D. Hayes states that this operation can be reversed, and from
two to ten per cent, of a heavy oil obtained from the lightest and
cheapest gasolene or petroleum naphtha. This change he observed
in an apparatus constructed by Mr. Z. A. Willard, for generating
gases and hydrocarbon vapors for metallurgical purposes. It consisted
essentially of upright wrought-iron cylinders, half-full of the naphtha,
through which steam at the ordinary working temperature and press
ure passed, vaporizing the naphtha, and maintaining a pressure of about
fifty pounds to the inch. The steam and naphtha vapors were thus
kept above the liquid at a temperature much above the boiling-point
of naphtha, but never as high as 300 Fahr., and the decompositions
appeared to occur rather in the vapors than in the liquid. The heavy
oil drawn off below had a dark yellowish-brown color, was nearly
odorless after a few days exposure to the air, had a specific gravity
of about 34 Beaume, and boiled above 400 Fahr. By redistilling, it
was broken up into lighter and heavier liquid hydrocarbons, paraftine,
and separated carbon (American Journal of Science, III., ii., 184).

PETROLEUM AS A FUEL AND GAS-PRODUCER. The use of gasolene in
gas-machines is well known, and sometimes naphtha Las been used to
enrich coal-gas, by decomposing its vapor at a cherry -red heat, so as
to produce a gas rich in heavy hydrocarbons, which is mixed with
the coal-gas. Crude petroleum has also been conducted continuously
into red-hot cast-iron retorts, whereby it is decomposed and rich gas
formed. The Lowe process, now making daily 120,000 cubic feet of
gas, of 19.5 candle-power, for a five-foot burner, at Utica, New York,
is very successful. It consists essentially in forcing steam through a
generator partly full of anthracite coal, brought to intense ignition ;
the steam is decomposed, and the resulting hydrogen meets crude pe
troleum that trickles down through the top of the generator; the
petroleum is carried in vapor with the hydrogen into a " superheater"
filled with loose fire-bricks, previously intensely heated by the gases
from the generator. Here the hydrogen and hydrocarbons react upon
each other, producing a permanent gas, which is purified as usual.
The resulting gas is of uniform quality, very pure, and the saving in
labor and materials is about 35 per cent, over coal-gas (Scientific
American, January 8, 1876).

As regards the use of petroleum for fuel, it has always been found
difficult to secure the complete combustion of the oil, so as to avoid
smoke ; the complicated nature of the contrivances devised for its use
has also worked against its introduction as a fuel ; but a furnace for
reheating and rolling scrap-iron into boiler-plate has been invented
by C. J. Eames, and is worked in Jersey City, which deserves men
tion. Prof. H. Wurtz (American Chemist, September, 1875) has de-

I 5 6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

scribed it at length. A current of steam heated to incandescence,
meeting crude petroleum as it drips slowly over cast-iron shelves,
takes up all the oil and carries it to a chamber where it meets an air-
blast and passes on to the combustion-chamber. This is a cellular
tier of fire-bricks occupying the space over the bridge-wall of an ordi
nary furnace. Here the combustion begins, and thence the flames
pass into the furnace, heating the six piles of iron, of 500 pounds each,
which form a charge. Eight tons of boiler-plate can be worked off in
ten hours with 300 gallons of crude petroleum, to which should be
added 500 pounds of coal for generating and heating the steam. Pe
troleum is also used as a source of power in hydrocarbon engines
(G. B. Brayton s), its vapor being mixed with air and ignited.

PRODUCTION AND VALUE OF PETROLEUM AND ITS PRODUCTS. When
the first abundant supplies of petroleum were obtained, the demand for
it as an illuminator was small, and it could be bought at the wells for
ten cents a barrel, or was even allowed to run to waste (Wrigley),
but as the consumption increased the price rose steadily, reaching, in
1864, $13.75 per barrel. The average prices per barrel at Titusville
are given below, taken from StoweWs Petroleum Reporter, Pittsburg :

1864

. . . . $7 62

1870

$3 74

1865

618

1871

4 50

1866

3 78

1872

3 84

1867

2 54

1873

1 84

1868

3 95

1874

1 29

1869..

5 48

1875..

1 48

The production of the Pennsylvania oil-region, from 1859 to 1874,
according to Wrigley, has been as follows :

1859 3,200 barrels.

1860 650,000

1861 2,113,600

1862 3,056,606

1863 2,611,359

1864 2,116,182

1865 3,497,712

1866 3,597,527

1867 3,347,306 barrels.

1868 3,715,741 u

1869 4,215,000 "

1870 5,659,000 "

1871 5,795,000 "

1872 6,539,103 "

1873 9,879,303 "

1874 10,910,303 "

The yield for 1859 is put at about 2,000 barrels by Mr. S. II. Stow-
ell, who has also kindly furnished the following statistics :

Total Yield of the United States in 1875.

Pennsylvania 8,787,506 bbls.,-of 42 galls.

Western Virginia (approximated) 182,000 "

All other sources, " 17,150 "

Total 8,986,656 "

The total value of the crude oils at the wells, up to the end of 1874,
is given by Wrigley as $235,475,120, with an additional value for

PETROLEUM. ls?

the refining of 75 per cent, of the whole, at $2 per barrel, of over
$100,000,000. The stock of crude oil on hand at the wells, in December,
1875, was 3,550,207 barrels. The total export from the United States
during 1875 was: Crude petroleum, 378,532 barrels (of 40 gallons
each) ; refined, 5,086,785 ; naphtha, 344,978. The average price of
these in New York has been, per gallon :

Crude, in Bulk. Refined, in Barrels. Naphtha, in Barrels.

1875 6.59 cents. 12.99 cnts. 9.67 cent s.

1874 5.86 " 13.09 " 8.85 "

1873 7.62 " 18.21 " 11.07 "

1872 12.80 " 23.75 u -14.81 "

Estimating the freight at $2.50 per barrel to the sea-board, and
including the cost of refining and handling, Wrigley puts the total
value of petroleum exported to foreign parts from Pennsylvania, since
the beginning of the industry, at a minimum of $260,000,000.

In 1874 nearly 600 wells were drilled, producing an average of 50
barrels each ; in 1875, about the same number, with an average of less
than 25 barrels ; and there were 3,125 producing-wells in Pennsylvania,
January 1, 1876 (Stowell).

According to the rules of the New York Produce Exchange, crude
petroleum shall be understood to be pure, natural oil, neither steamed
nor treated, and free from water, sediment, or any adulteration, and
of the gravity of 40 to 47 Beaume. An allowance of one-half of one
per cent, for every quarter of a degree above 47 gravity shall be made
to the buyer. Refined petroleum shall be standard white or better,
with a fire-test of 110 Fahr. or upward. Settlements of contracts
shall be as follows : Barreled oil or naphtha, on a basis of forty-six
gallons per barrel ; refined oil, in bulk, forty-five gallons ; crude oil,
in bulk, forty gallons.

Dr. Chandler states that the average cost per hour of light equal
to eight candles is as follows the gas being sixteen-candle power,
with a five-foot burner, the standard kerosene flashing at 115 Fahr.,
and the sperm-candles burning each 120 grains per hour :

From sperm-candles, at 42 cents per pound 5.76 cents.

Gas, at $3 per 1,000 feet 0.75

Mineral sperm-oil, in German student-lamp, at 75 cents per gallon. . 0.57
" " in Merrill s lamp 0.48

Astral oil, in flat-wick lamp, at 50 cents per gallon 0.46

" " in German student-lamp 0.44

" " in Merrill s lamp 0.34

Standard kerosene, in flat-wick lamp, at 40 cents per gallon 0.33

" " in German student-lamp 0.31

" in Merrill s lamp 0.28 "

158 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

LESSONS IN ELECTEICITY. 1

HOLIDAY LECTURES AT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION.

BY PROF. TYNDALL, F. E. S.

III.

SECTION 13. Electric Induction. We have now to apply the the
ory of electric fluids to the important subject of electric induction.
It was noticed by early observers that contact was not necessary
to electrical excitement. Otto von Guericke, as we have already
seen, found that a body brought near his sulphur globe became elec
trical. By bringing his excited glass tube near one end of a conduct
or, Stephen Gray attracted light bodies at the other end. He also
obtained attraction through the human body. From the human body,
also, Du Fay, to his astonishment, obtained a spark. Canton, in 1753,
suspended pith-balls by thread, and, holding an excited glass tube at
a considerable distance, caused them to diverge. On removing the
tube the balls fell together, no permanent charge being imparted to
them. Such phenomena were further studied and developed by
Wilcke and JEpinus, Coulomb and Poisson.

These and all similar results are embraced by the law that, when an
electrified body is brought near an unelectrified one, the neutral fluid
of the latter is decomposed, one of its constituents being attracted,
the other repelled. When the electrified body is withdrawn, the sep
arated electricities flow again together and render the body unelectric.

This decomposition of the neutral fluid by the mere presence of an
electrified body is called induction. It is also called electrification
by influence.

If, while it is under the influence of the electrified body, the body
influenced be touched, the free electricity (which is always of the
same kind as that of the influencing body) passes away, the opposite
electricity being held captive.

On removing the electrified body the captive electricity is set free,
the conductor being charged with electricity opposite in kind to that
of the body which electrified it.

You cannot do better here than repeat Stephen Gray s experiment.
Support a small plank upon a warm tumbler, and bring under one of
its ends and near it scraps of light paper or of gold-leaf. Excite your
glass tube vigorously, and bring it over the other end of the plank,
without touching it. The ends may be six or eight feet apart ; the light
bodies will be attracted. The experiment is easily made, and you are
not to rest satisfied till you can make it with ease and certainty.

*A course of six lectures, with simple experiments in frictional electricity, before
juvenile audiences during the Christmas holidays.

LESSON S IN ELECTRICITY.

1 S9

This is a fit place to say that you must keep a close eye upon the
tumblers you employ for insulation. Some of them, made of common
glass, are hardly to be accounted insulators at all. We shall prove this.

Our mastery over this subject of induction must be complete, for
it underlies all our subsequent inquiries. Without reference to it
nothing is to be explained ; possessed of it you will enjoy, not only a
wonderful power of explanation, but of prediction. We will attack
it, therefore, with the determination to exhaust it.

And here a slight addition must be made to our apparatus. We
must be in a condition to take samples of electricity, and to convey
them, with the view of testing them, from place to place. For this
purpose the little " carrier," shown in Fig. 10, will be found conven
ient. Tis a bit of tin-foil, two or three inches square. A straw stem
is stuck on to it by sealing-wax, the lower end of the stem being cov
ered by sealing-wax. To make the insulation sure, the part between
JK and S is wholly of sealing-wax. You can have stems of ebonite,
which are stronger, for a few pence ; but you can have this one for a
fraction of a penny. The end R is to be held in the hand ; the elec
trified body is to be touched by T y and the electricity conveyed to an
electroscope to be tested.

R

FIG. 10.

FIG. 11.

Touch your rubbed glass rod with T, and then touch your electro
scope : the leaves diverge with positive electricity. Touch your
rubbed gutta-percha or sealing-wax with T, and then touch your elec
troscope : the leaves diverge with negative electricity. If the elec
tricity of any body augment the divergence produced by the glass,
the electricity of that body is positive. If it augment^the divergence
produced by the gutta-percha, the electricity is negative,
we are ready for further work.

And now

160 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Place an egg, E, Fig. 11, on its side upon a dry wineglass ; bring
your excited glass tube, 6r, within an inch or so of the end of the egg.
What is the condition of the egg ? Its electricity is decomposed ;
the negative covering the end a adjacent to the tube, the positive
covering the other end b. Remove the glass tube : what occurs ?
The two electricities flow together and neutrality is restored. Prove
this neutrality. Neither a carrier touching the egg, nor the egg it
self, has any power to affect your electroscope, or to attract a lath
balanced in the manner already described.

Again, bring the excited tube near the egg. Touch its distant
part b with your carrier. The carrier now attracts the straw or the
balanced lath. It also causes the leaves of your electroscope to di
verge. What is the quality of the electricity ? It repels and is re
pelled by rubbed glass ; the electricity at b is, therefore, positive.
Discharge the carrier by touching it, and bring it into contact with
the end a of the egg nearest to the glass tube. The electricity you
take away repels and is repelled by gutta-percha. It is, therefore,
negative. Test the quality, also, by the electroscope.

While the tube G is near the egg touch the end b with your fin
ger; now try to charge the carrier by touching b: you cannot do so
the positive electricity has disappeared. Has the negative disap
peared also. No. Remove the glass tube, and once more touch the
egg at b with the carrier. It is charged, not with positive, but with
negative electricity. Clearly understand this experiment. The neu
tral electricity of the egg is first decomposed into negative and posi
tive ; the former attracted, the latter repelled by the excited glass.
The repelled electricity is free to escape, and it has escaped on your

FIG. 12.

touching the egg with your finger. But the attracted electricity can
not escape as long as the influencing tube is held near. On removing
the tube which holds the negative fluid in bondage, that fluid imme
diately diffuses itself over the whole egg. An apple, or a turnip, will
answer for these experiments at least as well as an egg.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. !6i

Discharge the egg by touching it. Reexcite the glass tube and
bring it again near. Touch the egg with a wire or with your finger
at a. Is it the negative at a, into which you plunge your finger, that
escapes ? No such thing. The free positive fluid passes through the
negative, and through your finger to the earth. Prove this, by re
moving first your finger and then the glass tube. The egg is charged
negatively.

Again: place two eggs, E E^ Fig. 12, lengthwise on two dry
wineglasses, g g^ and cause two of their ends to touch each other, as
at C. Bring your rubbed glass rod near the end a, and while it is
there separate the eggs by moving one glass away from the other.
Withdraw the rod and test both eggs : a is negative, b is positive.
The two charges neutralize each other in the electroscope. Again :
bring the eggs together and restore the rubbed tube to its place near
a. Touch a and then separate the eggs. Remove the glass rod and
test the eggs : a is negative, b is neutral. Its electricity has escaped
through the finger, though placed at a.

Push your experiments still farther, and, instead of bringing the
eggs, T T f , Fig. 13, together, place them six feet or so apart, and let
a light chain, (7, or wire stretch from one to the other. Two brass

FIG. 13.

balls or wooden balls covered with tin-foil, and supported by tall
drinking-glasses, G Gr, will be better than the eggs for this experi
ment, for they will bear better the strain of the chain ; but you can
make the experiment with the eggs, or very readily with two apples
or two turnips. For the present we will suppose the straw-index II
not to be there. Rub your glass tube R, and bring it near one of the
balls ; test both: the near one, T , is negative, the distant one, T,
positive. Touch the near one, the positive electricity, which had been
driven along the chain to the remotest part of the system, returns
along the chain, passes through the negative which is held captive by
the tube, and escapes to the earth. When the tube is removed, nega
tive electricity overspreads both chain and balls.

In Fig. 6 you made the acquaintance of the plate N, and the

VOL. IX 11

162

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

straw-index / / , shown in Fig. 13. By its means you immediately
see both the effect of the first induction and the consequence of
touching any part of the system with the finger. The plate N rests
over the ball or turnip T, the position of the straw-index being that
shown by the dots. Bring the rubbed tube near T : the end JVof the
index immediately descends and the other end rises along the grad
uated scale. Remove the glass rod ; the index 1 1 immediately falls.
Practise this approach and withdrawal, and observe how promptly
the index declares the induction and recomposition of the fluids.

While the tube is near T, and the end JVof the index is attracted,
let T be touched by the finger. The end JVis immediately liberated,
for the electricity which pulled it down escapes along the chain and
through the finger to the earth. Now remove your excited tube.
The captive negative electricity diffuses itself over both balls, and
the index is again attracted.

Instead of the chain you may interpose between the balls one
hundred feet of wire supported by silk loops. This is done in Fig.
14, which shows the wire w supported by the silk strings S S $, and
where, for the ball or turnip, the cylinder (7, on a glass support Gr, is
substituted. Every approach and withdrawal of the rubbed glass
tube H is followed obediently by the corresponding motion of the
index.

FIG. 14.

Or, substituting a carrot, a cucumber, or other elongated conduct
or for the ball T , Fig. 12, you cause your rubbed glass tube to act
upon a greater extent of surface. You thus decompose more elec
tricity and produce a greater attraction.

Repeat here an experiment, first made by a great electrician named
^Epinus. I wish you to make these grand old experiments. Support
an elongated metal conductor, or one formed of wood coated with
tin-foil even a carrot, cucumber, or parsnip, so that it will be insu-

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. ^3

lated, will answer. Let a small weight suspended from a silk string
rest on one end of the conductor, and hold your rubbed glass rod
near the other end. You can. predict beforehand what will occur
when you remove the weight. It carries away with it electricity,
which repels rubbed glass, and which attracts your balanced lath.

Stand on an insulating stool : make one, if necessary, by placing
a board on four warm tumblers. Present the knuckles of your right
hand to the end of the balanced lath, and stretch forth your left arm.
There is no attraction. But let a friend or an assistant bring the
rubbed glass tube over the left arm ; the lath immediately follows
the right hand.

While matters continue thus, touch the lath, which I suppose to
be uninsulated ; the " attractive virtue," as it was called by Gray, dis
appears. After this, as long as the excited tube is held over the arm
there is no attraction. But when the tube is removed the attractive
power of the hand is restored. Here, you will at once comprehend,
the first attraction w r as by positive electricity driven to the right hand
from the left, and the second attraction by negative electricity, liber
ated by the removal of the glass rod.

Stand on an insulating stool, and place your right hand on the
electroscope : there is no action. Stretch forth the left arm and per
mit an assistant alternately to bring near, and to withdraw, an excited
glass tube. The gold-leaves open and collapse in similar alternation.
At every approach, positive electricity is driven over the gold-leaves ;
at every withdrawal, the equilibrium is restored.

I will now ask you to charge your Dutch gold electroscope posi
tively by rubbed gutta-percha, and to charge it negatively by rubbed
glass. A moment s reflection will enable you to do it. You bring
your excited body near : the same electricity as that of the excited
body is driven over the leaves, and they diverge by repulsion. Touch
the electroscope, the leaves collapse. Withdraw your finger, and
withdraw afterward the excited body : the leaves then diverge with
the opposite electricity.

The simplest way of testing the quality of electricity is to charge
the electroscope with electricity of a known kind. If, on the approach
of the body to be tested, the leaves diverge still wider, the leaves and
the body are similarly electrified. The reason is obvious.

The wealth of knowledge, and of interest, which these experiments
involve, may be placed within any boy s reach by the wise expendi
ture of half a crown.

Once firmly possessed of the principle of induction and versed in
its application, the difiiculties of our subject will melt away before us.
In fact, our subsequent work will consist mainly in unraveling phe
nomena by the aid of this principle.

Without a knowledge of this principle we could render no account

164 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the attraction of neutral bodies by our excited tubes. In reality,
the attracted bodies are not neutral : they are first electrified by in
fluence, and it is because they are thus electrified that they are at
tracted.

This is the, place to stamp upon your mind the following considera
tions: Neutral bodies, as just stated, are attracted, because they are
really converted into electrified bodies by induction. Suppose a body
to be feebly electrified positively, and that you bring your rubbed
glass-rod to bear upon the body. You clearly see that the induced
negative electricity may be strong enough to mask and overcome the
weak positive charge possessed by the body. We should thus have
two bodies electrified alike, attracting each other. This is the danger
against which I promised to warn yon in Section 10, where the test of
attraction was rejected.

We will now apply the principle to explain a very beautiful inven
tion, made known by the celebrated Volta in 1775.

SEC. 14. The Electrophorus. Cut a circle, T (Fig. 15), six inches
in diameter, out of sheet-zinc, or out of common tin. Heat it at its

FIG. 15.

centre by the flame of a spirit-lamp or of a candle. Attach to it there
a stick of sealing-wax, H, which, when the metal cools, is to serve as
an insulating handle. You have now the lid of the electrophorus. A
resinous surface, or what is simpler a sheet of vulcanized India-rubber,
P, or even of hot brown paper, will answer for the plate of the elec
trophorus.

Rub your " plate " with flannel, or whisk it briskly with a fox s
brush. It is thereby negatively electrified. Place the "lid" of your
electrophorus on the excited surface : it touches it at a few points only.
For the most part lid and plate are separated by a film of air.

The excited surface acts by induction across this film upon the lid,
attracting its positive and repelling its negative electricity. You
have in fact in the lid two layers of electricity, the lower one, which
is " bound," positive ; the upper one, which is " free," negative. Lift

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. ^5

the lid: the electricities flow again together; neutrality is restored,
and your lid fails to attract your balanced lath.

Once more place the lid upon the excited surface : touch it with
the finger. What occurs ? You ought to know. The free electricity,
which is negative, will escape through your body to the earth, leaving
the chained positive behind.

Now lift the lid by the handle : what is its condition ? Again I
say you ought to know. It is covered with free positive electricity.
If it be presented to the lath it will strongly attract it ; if it be pre
sented to the knuckle it will yield a spark.

A smooth half-crown or penny will answer for this experiment.
Stick to the coin an inch of sealing-wax as an insulating handle ; bring
it down upon the excited India-rubber : touch it, lift it, and present it
to your lath. The lath may be six or eight feet long, three inches
wide, and half an inch thick ; the little electrophorus-lid, formed by
the half-crown, will pull it round and round. The experiment is a
very impressive one.

Scrutinize your instrument still further. Let the end of a thin
wire rest upon the lid of your electrophorus, under a little weight if
necessary, and connect the other end of the wire with the electro
scope. As you lower the lid down toward the excited plate of the
electrophorus, what must occur ? The power of prevision now belongs
to you and you must exercise it. The repelled electricity will flow
over the leaves of the electroscope, causing them to diverge. Lift the
lid, they collapse. Lower and raise the lid several times, and observe
the corresponding rhythmic action of the electroscope-leaves.

A little knob of sealing-wax, ./?, coated with tin-foil ; or indeed any
knob with a conducting surface, stuck into the lid of the electropho
rus, will enable you to obtain a better spark. The reason of this will
immediately appear.

SEC. 15. Action of Points and Flames. The course of exposition
proceeds naturally from the electrophorus to the electrical machine.
But before we take up the machine we must make our minds clear re
garding the manner in which electricity diffuses itself over conductors,
and more especially over elongated and pointed conductors.

Rub your glass tube and draw it over an insulated sphere of metal
of wood covered with tin-foil, or indeed any other insulated spheri
cal conductor. Repeat the process several times, so as to impart a
good charge to the sphere. Touch the charged sphere with your car
rier, and transfer the charge to the electroscope. Note the diver
gence of the leaves. Discharge the electroscope, and repeat the ex
periment, touching, however, some other point of the sphere. The
electroscope shows the same amount of divergence. Even when the
greatest exactness of the most practised experimenter is brought
into play, the spherical conductor is found to be equally charged
at all points of its surface. You may figure the electric fluid as

1 66 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a little ocean encompassing tbe sphere, and of the same depth every
where.

But supposing the conductor, instead of being a sphere, to be a
cube, an elongated cylinder, a cone, or a disk. The depth, or as it is
sometimes called the density of the electricity, will not be everywhere
the same. The corners of the cube will impart a stronger charge to
your carrier than the sides. The end of the cylinder will impart a
stronger charge than its middle. The edge of the disk will impart a
stronger charge than its flat surface. The apex or point of the cone
will impart a stronger charge than its curved surface or its base.

You can satisfy yourself of the truth of all this in a rough but cer
tain way, by charging, after the sphere, a turnip cut into the form of a
cube ; or a cigar-box coated with tin-foil ; a metal cylinder, or a wood
en one coated with tin-foil ; a disk of tin or of sheet-zinc ; a carrot or
parsnip with its natural shape improved so as to make it a sharp cone.
You will find the charge imparted to the carrier by the sharp corners
and points, to be greater than that communicated by gently-rounded
or flat surfaces. The difference may not be great, but it will be dis
tinct. Indeed, the egg laid on its side, as we have already used it in
our experiments on induction, yields a stronger charge from its ends
than from its middle.

Let me place before you an example of this distribution, taken
from the excellent work on " Frictional Electricity," by Prof. Riess,
of Berlin, who is probably the greatest living exponent of the sub
ject. Two cones, Fig. 16, are placed together base to base. Calling

FIG. 16.

the strength of the charge along the circular edge where the two
bases join each other 100, the charge at the apex of the blunter cone
is 133, and at the apex of the sharper one 202. The other numbers
give the charges taken from the points where they are placed. Fig.
17, moreover, represents a cube with a cone placed upon it. The
charge on the face of the cube being 1, the charges at the corners of
the cube and at the apex of the cone are given by the other numbers ;
they are all far in excess of the electricity on the flat surface.

Riess found that he could deduce with great accuracy the sharp
ness of a point, from the charge which it imparted. He compared in
this way the sharpness of various thorns with that of a fine English
sewing-needle. The following is the result: Euphorbia-thorn was
sharper than the needle ; gooseberry-thorn of the same sharpness as

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 167

the needle; while cactus, blackthorn, and rose, fell more and more
behind the needle in sharpness. Calling, for example, the charge ob
tained from euphorbia 90, that obtained from the needle was 80, and
from the rose only 53.

FIG. 17.

Considering that the electricity is self-repulsive, and that it heaps
itself up upon a point in the manner here shown, you will have little
difficulty in conceiving that, when the charge of a conductor carrying
a point is sufficiently strong, the electricity will finally disperse itself
by streaming from the point.

The following experiments are theoretically important : Attach a
stick of sealing-wax to a small plate of tin, so that the stick may stand
upright. Heat a needle and insert it into the top of the stick of wax ;
on this needle mount a carrot. You have thus an insulated conduct
or. Stick into your carrot at one of its ends a sewing-needle, and
hold for an instant your rubbed glass rod in front of this needle with
out touching it. What occurs ? The negative electricity of the car
rot is discharged from the point against the glass rod. Remove the
rod, test the carrot: it is positively electrified.

And now for another experiment, not so easily made, but still cer
tain to succeed if you are careful. Excite your glass rod, turn your
needle away from it, and bring the rod near the other end of the car
rot. What occurs ? The positive electricity is now repelled to the
point, from which it will stream into the air. Remove the rod and
test the carrot : it is negatively electrified.

Again, turn the point toward you, and place in front of it a plate
of dry glass, wax, resin, shellac, paraffine, gutta-percha, or any other
insulator. Pass your rubbed glass tube once downward or upward,
the insulating plate being between the excited tube and the point.
The point will discharge against the insulating plate, which on trial
will be found negatively electrified. These experiments, I may say,
were discussed, and differently interpreted by the two philosophers,
during an important correspondence between Faraday and Prof.

Riess. 1

1 Philosophical Magazine," vol. xi., 1856.

i68

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SEC. 16. The Electrical Machine. An electrical machine consists
of two principal parts: the insulator which is excited by friction,
and the " prime conductor."

The sulphur sphere of Otto von Guericke was, as already stated,
the first electrical machine. The hand was the rubber, and indeed it
long continued to be so. For the sulphur sphere Hauksbee and
Winckler substituted globes of glass. Boze, of Wittenberg (1741),
added the prime conductor, which was at first a tin tube supported
by resin, or suspended by silk. Soon afterward Gordon substituted
a glass cylinder for the globe. It was sometimes mounted vertically,
sometimes horizontally. Gordon so intensified his discharges as to
be able to kill small birds with them. In 1760 Planta introduced the
plate machine now commonly in use.

Mr. Cottrell has constructed for these lessons the small cylinder
machine shown in Fig. 18. The glass cylinder is about seven inches
long and four inches in diameter ; its cost is eighteen pence. Through
the cylinder passes tightly, as an axis, a piece of lath, rendered secure

FIG. 18.

by sealing-wax where it enters and quits the cylinder. G is a glass rod
supporting the conductor (7, which is a piece of lath coated with tin
foil. Into the lath is driven the series of pin-points, jP, P. The rub
ber, 72, is seen at the farther side of the cylinder, supported by the
upright lath, 72 , and caused to press against the glass. S is a flap
of silk. When the handle is turned sparks may be taken, or a Ley-
den-jar charged at the knob C. A plate machine is shown in Fig. 19.
P is the plate ; 72 and 72 , two rubbers which clasp the plate. A and
A are rows of points presented by the conductor, C. C C is an in
sulating rod of glass, intended to cut off the connection between the
conductor and the handle of the machine.

The prime conductor is thus charged: when the glass plate is

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY.

169

turned, as it passes each rubber it is positively electrified. Facing
the electrified glass is the row of points midway between the two
rubbers. On these points the electrified glass acts by induction, at
tracting the negative and repelling the positive. In accordance with
the principles already explained the negative electricity streams from
the points against the excited glass, which passes on neutralized to
the next rubber, where it is again excited. Thus the prime conductor
is charged, not by the direct communication to it of positive elec
tricity, but by depriving it of its negative.

FIG. 19.

If, when the prime conductor is charged, you bring the knuckle
near it, the electricity passes from the conductor to the knuckle in
the form of a spark.

Take this spark while the machine is being turned, and then try
the effect of presenting the finger-ends, instead of the knuckle, to the
conductor. The spark falls exceedingly in brilliancy. Substitute for
the finger-ends a needle-point, you fail to get a spark at all. To ob
tain a good spark the electricity upon the prime conductor must reach
a sufficient density (or tension, as it is sometimes called). To secure
this, no points from which the electricity can stream must exist on the
conductor, or be presented to it. All parts of the conductor are
therefore carefully rounded off, sharp points and edges being avoided.

It is usual to attach to the conductor an electroscope, consisting
of an upright metal stem, A C\ Fig. 20, to which a straw with a pith-
ball, B, at its free end, is attached. The straw turns loosely upon a
pivot at C. The electricity passing from the conductor is diffused
over the whole electroscope, and the straw and stem, being both posi
tively electrified, repel each other. The straw, being the movable
body, flies away. The amount of the divergence is measured upon a
graduated arc.

170

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

If no point exist on the conductor, a single turn of the handle of
the machine suffices to cause the straw to stand out nearly at right
angles to the stem. If, on the contrary, a point be attached to the
conductor, you cannot produce a large divergence. The reason is,
that the electricity, as fast as it is generated, is dispersed by the
point. The same effect is observed when you present a point to the

FIG. 20.

conductor. The conductor acts by induction upon the point, causing
the negative electricity to stream from it against the conductor,
which is thus neutralized almost as fast as it is charged. Flames and
glowing embers act like points ; they also rapidly discharge electricity.

The electricity escaping from a point or flame into the air renders
the air self-repulsive. The consequence is that, when the hand is
placed over a point mounted on the prime conductor of a machine in
good action, a cold blast is distinctly felt. Dr. Watson noticed this
blast from a flame placed on an electrified conductor, while Wilson
noticed the blast from a point. Jallabert and the Abbe Nollet also
observed and described the influence of points and flames. The blast
is called the " electric wind." Wilson moved bodies by its action ;
Faraday caused it to depress the surface of a liquid ; Hamilton em
ployed the reaction of the electric wind to make pointed wires rotate.
The " wind " was also found to promote evaporation.

Hamilton s apparatus is called the " electric mill." Make one for
yourself thus : Place two straws S $, S $ , Fig. 21, about eight inches
long, across each other at a right angle. Stick them together at their
centres by a bit of sealing-wax. Pass a fine wire through each straw
and bend it where it issues from the straw, so as to form a little
pointed arm perpendicular to the straw, and from half an inch to
three-quarters of an inch long. It is easy, by means of a bit of cork
or sealing-wax, to fix the wire so that the little bent arms shall point
not upward or downward, but sideways, when the cross is horizontal.
The points of sewing-needles may also be employed for the bent arms.
A little bit of straw is stuck into the cross at the centre, to form a
cap. This slips over a sewing-needle, JVJ supported by a stick of

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY.

171

sealing-wax, A. Connect the sewing-needle with the machine, and
turn. A wind of a certain force is discharged from every point, and
the cross is urged round with the same force in the opposite direction.
You might easily, of course, so arrange the points that the wind
from some of them would neutralize the wind from others. But the
little pointed arms are to be so bent that the reaction in every case
shall not oppose, but add itself to, the others.

n

FIG. 21.

The following experiments will yield you important information
regarding the action of points : Stand, as you have so often done be
fore, upon a board supported by four warm tumblers. Hold a small
sewing-needle, with its point defended by the forefinger of your right
hand, toward your Dutch metal electroscope. Place your left hand
on the prime conductor of your machine. Let the handle be turned
by a friend or an assistant : the leaves of the electroscope open out a
little. Uncover the needle-point by the removal of your finger : the
leaves at once fly violently apart.

Mount a stout wire upright on the conductor of your machine ; or
support the wire by sealing-wax, gutta-percha, or glass, at a distance
from the conductor. Connect both by a fine wire. Bend your stout
wire into a hook, and hang from it *a tassel composed of many strips
of light paper. Work the machine. Electricity from the conductor
flows over the tassel, and the strips diverge. Hold your closed fist
toward the tassel, the strips of paper stretch toward it. Hold the
needle, defended by the finger, toward the tassel : atctration also en
sues. Uncover the needle without moving the hand ; the strips re
treat as if blown away by a wind.

And now repeat Du Fay s experiment which led to the discovery
of two electricities. Excite your glass tube, and hold it in readiness,
while a friend, or an assistant, liberates a real gold or silver leaf in

172

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the air. Bring the tube near the leaf: it plunges toward the tube,
stops suddenly, and then flies away. You may chase it round the
room for hours without permitting it to reach the ground. The leaf
is first acted upon inductively by the tube. It is powerfully attracted
for a moment, and rushes toward the tube. But from its thin edges
and corners the negative electricity streams forth, leaving the leaf
positively electrified. Repulsion then sets in, because tube and leaf
are electrified alike. The retreat of the tassel in the last experiment
is due to a similar cause.

There is also a discharge of positive electricity into the air from
the more distant portions of the gold-leaf, to which that electricity
is repelled. Both discharges are accompanied by an electric wind.
It is possible to give the gold-leaf a shape which shall enable it to
float securely in the air by the reaction of the two winds issuing from
its opposite ends. This is Franklin s experiment of the Golden Fish.
It was first made with the charged conductor of the electrical machine.

FIG. 22

M. Srtsczek revived it in a more convenient form, using instead of the
conductor the knob of a charged Leyden-jar. You may walk round
a room with the jar in your hand; the "fish" will obediently follow
in the air an inch or two, or even three inches, from the knob. (See
A _Z?, Fig. 22.) Even a hasty motion of the jar will not shake it
away.

Well-pointed lightning-conductors, when acted on by a thunder
cloud, behave in the same way. The opposite electricity streams out
from them against the cloud.

Franklin saw this with great clearness, and illustrated it with
great ingenuity. The under-side of a thunder-cloud, when viewed

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM. 173

horizontally, he observed to be ragged, composed of fragments one
below the other, sometimes reaching near the earth. These he re
garded as so many stepping-stones which assist in conducting the
stroke of the cloud. To represent these by experiment, he took two
or three locks of fine loose cotton, tied them in a row, and hung
them from his prime conductor. When this was excited, the locks
stretched downward toward the earth ; but, by presenting a sharp
point erect under the lowest bunch of cotton, it shrunk upward to
that above it, nor did the shrinking cease till all the locks had
retreated to the prime conductor itself. "May not," says Franklin,
" the small electrified clouds, whose equilibrium with the earth is so
soon restored by the point, rise up to the main body, and by that
means occasion so large a vacancy that the grand cloud cannot strike
in that place ? "

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM.

-YTT~HEN a woman thinks of making deliberate choice of the pro-
W fession of a sick-nurse, she can, of course, take into careful
consideration if her character and temperament are or are not suited
for so arduous and trying an avocation. If she is a person of excit
able nature, and possessed of but little self-control, she can be wisely
counseled to give up the idea of a life for which she is so thoroughly
unfit ; but no peculiarities of character or temperament can exempt a
woman from being called upon by the plain voice of duty, at one time
or other of her life, to take her stand by the bedside of one dear to
her, and soothe as best she may many a weary hour of restlessness
and pain.

Very few, indeed, are the women who escape this rule most have
to take upon themselves the burden of attendance in a sick-room
and perhaps there are few subjects upon which the generality of
women are so well-intentioned, and yet so ignorant. With the very
best and kindest meaning in the world, attention bestowed upon a
suffering person may be productive of more discomfort than comfort
to the patient, and endless annoyance to the physician, just because
the zealous, but alas! untrained and undisciplined volunteer <
everything the wrong way.

Again, from a mistaken and unreal idea of true delicacy and
finement, many women shrink from ever seeing or learning anything
about suffering or sorrow ; and so, when the inevitable fate brings
the si-hts and sounds of pain, the dreadful realities of death, cruelly
home to them, they are paralyzed by terror, and useless, nay, worse
than useless to those most dear to them. Even as I write, si
stances rise before my mind of a lack of moral courage, an utter un-

174 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

possibility of self-command, that has led the mother to flee from the
bedside of her dying child, the wife to turn away from the failing
sight that yearns to gaze upon her face while life yet lingers ! The
contemplation of pain could not be borne, because the mind was weak
ened and enervated by a selfish habit of yielding to the dislike Of
bravely facing anything disagreeable. Let all true women train
themselves to possess self-control, calmness, and patient courage ; let
them strive to acquire a certain amount of knowledge of the cares
and duties of the sick-room ; let them not shrink from hearing the
details of this or that form of suffering and disease, and gladly and
readily offer help (when they rightly and safely can) outside the
bounds of their own immediate home circle. Let them rejoice in any
fitting opportunity that may come in their way of perfecting them
selves in this, the highest and holiest of woman s duties, so that when
their own time of trial comes they may not fail !

Taking it for granted that there are many who will gladly take
a few plain and practical hints on this subject, I shall condense the
result of a somewhat long and wide experience into a short space.

And, first: It is in things which of themselves appear trifling, and
even insignificant, that the comfort of a sick-room is made or marred.
For instance, an energetic and amiably-intentioned person places a
cold pillow beneath the shoulders of a patient suffering from pneumo
nia, that is, inflammation of the lungs ; a fit of coughing, perhaps a
restless night, is the result. Five minutes warming of the pillow at
the fire would have prevented all this mischief, and even conduced to
sleep.

Dress, again, is a matter of great importance in a sick-room, and
here I must enter a protest against that very common practice of the
amateur sick-nurse making a " guy " of herself. I really have seen
such startling and unpleasant costumes donned "for the occasion," as
seemed to me enough to cause delirium in the patient, if long contem
plated shawls, and dressing-gowns, and wraps, of such an obsolete
and awful character, that the shadow of the watcher, cast upon the
wall by the dim light of the night-lamp, must form a horrible " old
granny," and be by no means a pleasing reflection to meet a sick
man s eyes, as he wakes weak and confused from an opiate-won
sleep !

The best dress for a sick-room is plain black for the simple rea
son that no stain shows upon it an old silk is the most economical,
but silk rustles, and is therefore objectionable. Black lustre is very
serviceable not made long enough to trail, upset chairs, and get
under the doctor s feet ; and not having hanging sleeves, but fitting
close and neat at the wrist, so as to be finished off by nice white linen
cuffs. (I have seen a hanging sleeve catch on some projecting point
of chair or table, and convert a glass of egg-flip into a " douche " ex
ternally applied, swamping the patient in a yellow sea, besides send-

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM. l?s

ing her into hysterics.) A habit of moving quietly about the room,
and yet not treading " on tiptoe " and making every board in the
floor creak its loudest, is also very advisable ; and nothing can be
better by way of foot-gear than those soft, warm felt boots now
so common ; they both keep the nurse s feet from becoming cold,
and make the least possible sound in moving about. Of course the
manner of speaking in a sick-room is all-important. Oh, the horror of
that dreadful " pig s whisper," which penetrates to the inmost recesses
of the room, and wakes the sleeping patient as surely as the banging
of a door !

I call to mind a case of fever a very bad case, in which sleep was
the one desideratum almost the only hope. The sufferer had fallen
into a doze the terrible throbbing of the arteries in the bared throat
seemed a little less rapid the fire that was burning life away raged
a little less fiercely but, some idiot peeped in through a half-closed
door, and with horrible contortions of the visage, intended to express
extreme caution, whispered in blood-chilling tones, " How is he
getting on now ? "

In an instant the patient had raised himself in bed, the poor hot
hands were thrown out to ward off he knew not what the filmy eyes
stared wildly round the parched tongue faltered : " What is it ?
Where is it ? " And for hours the weary head tossed from side to
side, and meaningless words fell on the ears of those who watched
and waited, and almost feared to hope. And yet it was meant in kind
ness !

In some of the most severe diseases, such as cholera and diphtheria,
the patient is often intensely conscious of all that is passing around
him. The wish to know everything that is said and done is extreme,
and nothing excites a patient so much as anything like whispering
and mystery. The natural voice, only so much lowered as to be per
fectly distinct, is, then, the proper tone for a sick-room. If silence is
needed, let it be complete, and no whispering permitted either in the
room, or, worse still, outside the door.

And now I must say a few words on a disagreeable but yet most
important subject. In any case where operative surgery is necessary,
it cannot be too strongly insisted upon that no one shall remain
present whose calmness and self-control are not a certainty. I re
member well a delicate and difficult operation having to be performed
not a painful one, but where success mainly depended on the per
fect stillness of the patient. Scarcely had the first slight incision
been made, when the room resounded with the moans and cries, not
of the sufferer, but the friend who had kindly come to support her
through the ordeal ! With many a sob, and choke, and gurgle, the
frien(f was assisted from the room, and then all went well enough;
but great delay, and much increase of nervousness on the part of the
patient, naturally resulted.

176 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

One of the many very eminent surgeons of whom America can
boast once told me that on the occasion of performing a most formi
dable operation, in which promptitude was a vital necessity, he saw,
at a moment when seconds were precious, a friend, who had insisted
on remaining present, suddenly turn deadly pale, and fall fainting on
the floor, in uncomfortably close proximity to the chloroformed pa
tient. Dr. B stooped down, and quietly rolled the insensible

individual into a corner of the room, where he enjoyed undisturbed
repose until such time as some one had time to " bring him to."

Thus it may be seen that any one who is in the least nervous, and
cannot be certain of his own powers of self-command, acts with
truer kindness in remaining absent from such scenes, than by becom
ing an added source of anxiety, where there is so much already of the
gravest character. If, however, a woman has the moral courage to
face such trials calmly, and without flurry if she can do simply what
she is told, and nothing more if she can hold her tongue wholly
dismiss herself from her own mind, concentrating all her attention on
the patient, she may be of untold help and comfort. On the other
hand, a sick-nurse who asks the doctor endless questions who pre
sumes in her ignorance to criticise his treatment who is spasmodic
in her sympathy, and ejaculatory in her lamentations, is pestilent in
a sick-room, and should, if possible, be got rid of at any cost.

But as well as the nervous and excitable nurse, there is another
species of the genus against whom I would warn any one who in the
least values his own comfort, and that is, the person who insists upon
" helping you " to nurse some very severe case, and never ceases assur
ing you that she " keeps up splendidly at the time, but afterward ; "
and then comes an ominous shake of the head, which is a ghastly in
timation of what a time you will have of it with her, when what
she is pleased to call the " reaction " sets in. Nothing can be more
aggravating than to contemplate such an individual, and look forward
to the " breaking-down " which she assures you is inevitable, and which
you feel assured will come just when you and everybody else are tired
out with nursing the real sufferer, and when you want to go to bed,
and sleep your sleep out. The very idea of having to put hot-water
bottles to her feet, and mustard-poultices to her side, and cooling
lotions to her aching brow, and watch her acting the martyr (the
while you are wishing her at Jericho, or some other equally hard-to-
get-back-from place), is not a pleasant anticipation, as you sit opposite
to her through a long night of watching, and she tells you, with a
melancholy yet vainglorious countenance, how she shall " pay for this
afterward." But she treats with scorn your suggestion that she should
go to bed indeed, she would be bitterly disappointed if she might
not immolate herself and you. This sort of thing is what I call " self
ish unselfishness," a kind of self-sacrifice that is always acting as its
own bill-poster.

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM. i 77

But there is one kind of nervousness which I do not think meets
with sufficient consideration, and that is the unconquerable fear which
you will find some people have of any disease that is infectious.
Now, I think this sort of fear is far more constitutional than mental,
and it appears to me most uncharitable to speak of those who are thus
nervous by temperament as " so frightened," etc. Depend upon it, if
any one has a great dread of infection, he is far better away from the
chance of it. If I heard a person express a great and overpowering
dread of small-pox, cholera, fever, or diphtheria, I should do all in my
power to prevent that person going near any case of the kind, because
I should be morally certain of the result. As a rule, I believe that
those who are perfectly fearless are comparatively safe ; and there is
no truer test of perfect freedom from nervous dread than the fact of
being able to sleep at once, quietly and naturally, and without the
mind being obliged to dwell upon the work of the day. The best
cholera-nurse I ever saw used to tell me that she often sat down in the
corner of a room, on the floor, and "slept right off" for half an hour
at a time, either day or night, just as such opportunity for rest pre
sented itself. But of course there are exceptions to all rules ; and one
of the most devoted and the most fearless in attendance on the sick,
during a terrible epidemic, died just when the worst of the battle
seemed over.

But to return to some of those " trifles," the knowledge of which
is so needful to those who would try to fulfill well the duties of an
amateur sick-nurse.

When active personal care of a sick person is undertaken, the fin
ger-nails should be kept very short. I have seen a long nail tear open
a blister, and expose a raw surface, causing great pain. For the same
reason, all removable rings should be taken off; and any ornaments
that hang loose and make a jingling noise are best dispensed with,
as they irritate and annoy a sensitive patient.

It seems to me that this very unpretending paper will be hardly
complete without a few words as to the diet that is best for any one
acting as sick-nurse in a long and trying case.

One great point is, to let no silly notions of sentiment prevent you
making a practice of taking substantial and regular meals ; and, when
you have to sit up all night, be sure and have food at hand, and never
go more than three hours without eating. Now, I am going to say
what I know many will highly disapprove of, and it is this: when
you are nursing a long and anxious case, and you want to be able to
" stay " to the end, avoid all stimulants. There is nothing you can do
such hard work upon, there is nothing that will support you in long-
continued watching and fatigue, like good, well-made coffee. Stimu
lants only give a temporary excitement, that passes itself off as
strength. They injure that clearness of thought, that perfect quie
tude and recollectedness which are so essential to the good sick-nurse ;

VOL. IX. 12

178 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and they tend more than anything else to that miserable " breaking-
down afterward" of which I have already spoken. Chambers^
Journal.

THE POLAK GLACIERS.

BY C. C. MEERIMAN.

II.

THE element of all others most sensitive to the changes and im
pulses of every kind of force is the earth s atmosphere. It is in
a state of constant disturbance, and seems to be obedient to no laws
or regularity. Yet, unstable as the winds appear, they are really, in
their general movements, among the most orderly and effective agents
in Nature. This is shown in a remarkable manner by their agency in
impelling the great ocean-streams, and therefore their important in
fluence on glacial phenomena. In order to make this evident, it will
be necessary to explain in brief the general laws of their circulation.

The earth turns on its axis from west to east, and with it rotates
daily the enormous envelope of the atmosphere. The velocity of rota
tion at the equator is something over 1,000 miles an hour; at thirty
degrees distance it is about 150 miles an hour less. In higher lati
tudes it is still less; and at the poles nothing. Therefore, whenever
the air moves north or south on the surface of the earth, it will
carry with it a less or greater velocity of rotation than the places
it passes over, and will turn into an easterly or westerly wind,
according as it approaches or recedes from the equator. In the
region of the sun s greatest heat, the air, rarefied and lightened,
is continually rising, and cooler currents come in on both sides to
take the place of the ascending volume. As these side-currents come
from a distance of about thirty degrees from the equator, they have,
at starting, an eastward velocity many miles an hour less than the
localities they will eventually reach. Consequently they will appear
to lag behind in all the course of their progress to the equator that
is, they will have a westerly motion united with their north and south
movements. These are the great trade-winds, blowing constantly
from the northeast on this side, and the southeast on the other side
of the equator.

But the heated air, which has risen in immense volumes in the
tropics, spreads out to the north and the south in the upper regions,
passes entirely over the trade-winds, and comes down to the earth in
the temperate zones. It, however, continues to have the velocity
toward the east which it acquired at the equator, and, when it strikes
the slower-moving latitudes, it will be traveling much faster than the
regions it comes down upon. Hence the westerly winds that prevail
almost constantly in the middle latitudes.

THE POLAR GLACIERS. i 79

This is the normal order of the wind-currents, and that which
would prevail with nearly perfect regularity if the world were a uni
form globe of water or of land, and equally heated on both sides of
the equator. But the continents, and particularly mountain eleva
tions, produce great disturbances unequal rainfalls and ever-varying
atmospheric pressures. When also, from any cause, one of the trade-
winds, notably the southern, is increased in its violence, so as to push
a tornado-tongue across the dividing line, into the opposite system of
winds, there is started one of those cyclones, or great circular storms,
which ravage the tropics and whirl through the temperate zones,
finally exhausting themselves in the higher latitudes to the eastward.

The southern hemisphere is at the present time colder than the
northern, owing primarily to the fact that the winters there are eight
days longer than the northern, and the sun, during those seasons,
about 3,000,000 miles farther from the earth than during the north
ern winters. The difference of temperature, therefore, between the
warm air that rises at the equator and the cold air that comes in
from the south is greater than that on the north side. And, as it is
difference of temperature that produces the whole movement of the
air-currents, of course the greater strength of that movement must be
on the southern side. Hence the larger share of the equatorial cur
rent passes over to the south, and the southern trades are much the
strongest. In accordance with this theory, it is a matter of observa
tion that the southern trade-winds reach across the equator and into
the northern hemisphere in some places ten to fifteen degrees.

In obedience to and perfect accord with this great system of winds,
the waters of the oceans move. The strong southeast trades blow up
from Southern Africa, cross the equator, and drive the waters of the
South Atlantic into the Caribbean Sea. The lighter northeast trades,
blowing between North Africa and the West Indies, assist and give
direction to this movement, which finally impels through the Straits
of Florida a tide of tropical waters a hundred times greater than the
outflow of all the rivers in the world. This great flood of thermal
waters spreads out in the Northern Atlantic, imparting to Europe a
climate corresponding to countries twenty degrees south of it on
this sid3 of the ocean. There is, of course, an under-current from
the Arctics to the equator, exactly compensating this enormous
northward flow of the surface-waters. The same process and effect
are repeated in the Pacific Ocean; and the great Japan Stream robs
the southern hemisphere, for the benefit of our Pacific States, only
in a degree less than does the Gulf Stream for the benefit of Europe.

A change in the relative strength of the trade-winds, such that the
northeast trades would blow across the equator into the southern
hemisphere, would entirely reverse the course of the warm ocean-
currents, and carry to the southern continents the heat abstracted
from the northern. Such a change in the course of ocean-streams has

180 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

unquestionably followed every change in the glaciation of the hemi
spheres from astronomical causes. The winds and the water-currents
have always helped to increase the difference in temperature which a
considerable eccentricity of the earth s orbit must always have pro
duced between the northern and southern halves of our globe. It
matters but little which of the two the ocean-currents or the astro
nomical causes have produced the greater effect, since it is certain
that they have ever cooperated in one and the same direction.

On all the tropical seas, between the terminal lines of the two
trade-winds, there is what is called the belt of calms, a tract averag
ing from 300 to 500 miles wide, in which, whatever winds there
may be, are exceedingly light and unreliable. It is here, as we
have seen, that the air and vapor, heated by the vertical rays of the
sun, are continually rising and spreading outward in the upper regions.
It is a complete dividing line between the climates of the two hemi
spheres. One may be frigidly cold, while the other is highly heated ;
the only difference being that the calm belt would be removed farther
into the warmer hemisphere. It now ranges from five to ten degrees
of latitude on this side of the equator. In this belt of ascending air-
currents is carried up the greater part of the moisture which after
ward descends as rain or snow far from the equator. Whatever
excess of solar heat there may be on the tropics is here absorbed in
evaporating water. To vaporize a pound of water, according to Prof.
Tyndall, requires as much heat as to. raise fifty-five pounds of ice-
water to the boiling-point. It is manifest, therefore, that there must
have been, during the glacial periods, an enormous amount of sun-
power somewhere on the face of the earth to have supplied the vapor
that buried one zone and half of another beneath a solid ocean of ice.

These facts effectually do away with all the theories, except the
astronomical, which have been advanced by physicists to account for
glacial phenomena : one, that our solar system has, during certain
ages, passed through a colder region of space ; another, that the sun
in glacial times for some cause failed to supply his usual quantity of
heat ; and, as a consequence of either, that the glaciation of both hemi-
st)heres occurred at the same time. Equatorial heat is as necessary
to a glacial period as polar cold. The one transforms the waters to
vapor and elevates it to the cloud-spheres, while the other sends in
the cold winds beneath, which compel the vapors to come over to the
frozen side and build up the glacier.

The system of the stratified rocks has been called the great geo
logical book, with its uncounted leaves overlying each other. Now,
as it is a part of the glacial theory that each of these leaves or strata,
at least in greater part, was the work of a glacial period, it is im
portant for us to examine closely and particularly the course and
effect of one of these great cycles of 21,000 years or thereabouts.
We will take, for example, that one of the Post-tertiary glacial which

THE POLAR GLACIERS. 181

was of the greatest extent and severity. Ten cycles back about
210,000 years ago one of the periods of maximum eccentricity had
just commenced, the highest since four times that number of years.
The perigee, or nearest approach to the sun, happened then as now, a
few days after the winter solstice of our half of the world. It was
the great summer of the northern hemisphere. But over the south
ern hemisphere at this time, almost if not quite to the tropics, ex
tended one vast sheet of ice. It reached far into Brazil, it covered
Southern Africa, and lapped over on Australia. The marks are all
there, scored on the solid rocks, to show how it crept up the south
ern slopes of the hills, and how far it pushed its icy arms. In South
America at least there is ample proof that the great glacier spanned
the southern ocean to reach it ; for the furrows on the rock-beds of
Patagonia are from the pole toward the equator, whereas in any other
case they would have been from the mountains to the sea. With
such a state of things at the southern end of the world, with proba
bly miles .in depth of ice and sea in its higher latitudes, there could
have been but little water left for the opposite northern regions.
What is called the Atlantic-cable plateau, between Newfoundland
and Ireland, was very possibly the north shore of the Atlantic Ocean ;
and probably no considerable bodies of water existed anywhere north
of that parallel. The present continents were all mountain table
lands, far from the vicinity of evaporating surfaces. Like all such
elevated regions not exposed to specially moist winds, they were
doubtless dry and arid deserts. However warm may have been the cli
mate of the north temperate and arctic zones during this their great
summer, their great elevation and the want of any kind of water-sup
ply must have made them barren of all forms of animal or vegetable
life. Consequently there would be, as is notably the case, but few if
any traces of this part of the great season left in the geological rec
ords, at least above the present seas.

Five thousand years pass, and the perigee has advanced to meet
the vernal equinox. The spring season is now the shortest of all ;
but, as the autumnal is correspondingly lengthened, the average cli
mate is about that of the present time. But it is the season of the
great thaw the breaking-up time of the southern hemisphere, and
the waters are returning to fill the northern ocean-beds. Impercep
tibly a permanent white cap begins to fasten itself to the heights of
the boreal zone, to extend its outline, and to increase its depth. Slow
ly the lands are being submerged and the oceans broaden out, till
there comes a time when land and water are equalized in the two
hemispheres, and the climates are substantially alike.

Another 5,000 years pass, and the perigee now coincides with
the summer solstice of the northern hemisphere. This is the po
sition there of greatest cold : the winters are twenty-eight days lon
ger than the summers ; and the extra days are in great part those

i8z THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the briefest sunshine. Besides this, the earth is 10,500,000 miles
farther from the sun in winter than in summer. According to the
most careful calculations, the temperature of extreme northern re
gions would be lowered 50, and the mean annual range would be
fully 60 below zero. This in all probability would carry the isother
mal line of Labrador, South Greenland, and Iceland (32 Fahr.),down
to Charleston and the Gulf of Mexico. The late Prof. Agassiz found
ice-marks as far south as this, though it can hardly be supposed that
the permanent glacier extended so far. There are, however, abun
dant signs of the permanent ice-layer all over the State of New York,
and both east and west of it. The same distinguished authority was
wont to claim in his lectures that all the beautiful north and south
lakes of Western New York the Cayuga, the Seneca, the Canandai-
gua were ploughed out of the solid rock and walled around with their
clay and gravel hills by advancing and retreating glaciers. The rocky
summits of New England are found to be grooved and scored all over
their sides and tops with markings always in nearly a north and south
direction. They have been traced on Mount Washington to within
300 feet of the highest point. There can be no doubt that at the time
we are writing of, about 200,000 years ago, there was one solid ice-
stratum of immense thickness Agassiz said from two to three miles
slowly being pushed from the northward by the power of freez
ing water, over all of New England and the lake States.

Again the perigee proceeds to meet the autumnal equinox. The
winter and the summer seasons have again become equal in length ;
and the sun is just half its time on the north side of the equator. The
great. ice-shroud is now being gradually withdrawn. Where it abuts
on deep waters, enormous icebergs are broken off and float away to
the south, carrying bowlders and soil and whatever it may have picked
up in its slow course down to the sea. Where it terminates in shallow
waters or on the land, its effect is to produce such an arrangement
and diversity of soils and such a peculiar outline of country as no
other agency could ever have brought about. So different is the na
ture and work of the great polar glacier from anything with which we
are familiar at the present day, that it has seemed to me to require a
few words of more particular description.

As is well known, the glacier is an accumulation of many winters
snows consolidated by pressure into a clear blue ice. In this condi
tion it manifests the peculiar property of viscous bodies it is in con
tinual slow motion in the direction of least resistance. Whether it is
by the expansion produced by the repeated thawing and freezing of
water in its interstices, as Agassiz claimed, or whether by the press
ure of the mass and glacial regelation, which is the constant freezing
together of ice-surfaces in contact, after breaking under unequal press
ures, or crushing against obstacles, which is the theory of Prof.
Tyndall, or whether by both causes combined, certain it is that large

THE POLAR GLACIERS. !8 3

bodies of ice not only flow like a heavy lava-stream, conforming them
selves to all inequalities of the surface, but they also scrape along in
solid mass, as if pushed by some irresistible force from behind.
Mountain-glaciers show both motions. But the great polar glacier,
extending over comparatively level surfaces, seems to have been
pushed bodily outward from its fixed polar base, and to have moved
almost entirely under the mighty impulse of expansion. The parallel
scratches and furrows* which, in our hemisphere, mount straight up the
north sides of mountains ; the worn and rounded appearance of those
sides and of the summits, as compared with the rough, unsmoothed
southern slopes ; the erratic blocks, or some peculiar specimens like
the native copper of Lake Superior, carried almost directly south for
scores or hundreds of miles, over heights, and even over arms of the
sea all show conclusively that the great glacier pushed its meridional
course over all obstacles and to long distances.

Imbedding in its under surface the grit and gravel on which it
froze, this mountain grindstone grated and ground the solid rocks
over which it passed into the various materials of soil. Sand and
gravel were the products from granitic rocks and sandstones, clay
from the slates and shales, and loam from the softer lime-rocks. But
the most striking effects which the polar glacier produced were the
long ridges of gravel and bowlder-clay hills which it scraped up as it
advanced, and left at the end of its journey, or at each halting-place
of its retreat. For it must be borne in mind that the glacier was still
pushing southward all the time that it was, on the whole, retreating.
These terminal moraines are either the promiscuous gatherings of clay
and bowlders and earths of all kinds, or, if they have been subjected
to the sorting influence of moving waters, they are gravel hills with
sandy bases, and clay flats extending usually to the southward of
them. They run in somewhat parallel courses easterly and westerly,
sometimes hundreds of miles. Great numbers of these concentric
ridges may be counted in Western New York, between the long Lake
Ontario ridge and the lake hills of the south part of the State. Sev
eral cross the New England States, one running along the coast of
Maine, and westerly through the White Mountains. In addition to
these are the lateral moraines, running in an opposite direction.
These were, some of them, pushed out at the sides by outstretching
arms of the glacier ; others were formed by streams running down
through breaks or fiords in the melting -ice-sheet. So extensive and
so marked are the traces of the great polar glacier over all middle
latitudes, both north and south, that it may truly be called the great
landscape-gardener of the temperate zones.

But it is natural to conclude that, if there has been one glacial era
caused by astronomical cycles, there must also have been others in
earlier geological times. And, as we turn back the pages of the great
earth-book, we find therein recorded the evidences of the vicissitudes

184 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of climate which we thus anticipate, but, if we mistake not, in contin
ually-lessening force and extent the farther back we go. For, long
ages previous to the recent glacial epoch, through all the Tertiary era,
the fossil plants and animals indicate the prevalence of a warm and
genial climate over the greater part of the globe. Then come the
chalk-beds of the Cretaceous period, in which are frequently found
water-worn blocks of granite and aggregations of pebbles, proving
that then, as now, the iceberg floated down from the north over seas
that were quietly depositing the chalk-shells. Still older is found a
long series of secondary strata, the Oolite, the Lias, and the Trias,
which were deposited in at least sub-tropical climates. They are the
burial-grounds of the enormous saurian reptiles that once had an age
all to themselves in the world s chronology. Their remains have
been found within a thousand miles of the north-pole, thus proving
that warm seas covered every zone.

Between the great divisions of Secondary and Primary in geology,
there lies a stratum found only in the higher half of the latitudes, and
known as the Permian or New Red Sandstone. The scanty life-forms
found in it, and the coarse grit and angular bowlders of which it is
composed, evince the well-known glacial action. Geologists generally
think that there elapsed between these great divisions a very long
period of time in which, excepting the sandstone, but little was done
one way or another to build up the crust of the earth or leave a mark
in its records. This doubtless indicates periods of very small eccen
tricity. Such periods did occur, according to Mr. Croll s calculations,
immediately before and after the great eccentricity of 850,000 years
ago, in which we may perhaps conjecture the New Red Sandstone to
have been formed.

Previous to this age were the long Carboniferous periods, during
all of which a warm and moist climate prevailed over all lands that
have yet been explored. Below the coal-measures are found again
the grits and bowldery conglomerates of the Old Red Sandstone,
which, with great paucity of organic remains, would imply the alter
nations of somewhat glacial climates. The Silurian, Cambrian, and
Laurentian systems preceded the Old Red in the order named, and
reach back to the dawn of life on the earth. These formations are
of vast thickness, and were deposited at the bottom of warm seas in
all parts of the world.

It cannot be denied that, as we go back in the geologic records,
we find more and more the evidences of greater heat and a more
equable climate. It is certain that the astronomical relations which
we have pointed out the revolutions of the orbital points and the
alternations of great and small eccentricity have never ceased to
exist Therefore, if the world had been subjected to only the same
fiolar heat in ancient as in recent periods, there must have been re
peated glacial epochs ; and we should find the bowlder, and the un-

THE POLAR GLACIERS. 185

sorted drift, and the scratched and polished rocks, all through the stone
presentations. But very few, if any, such evidences have been found.

Again, for a warm and exuberant climate to extend into the arctic
zone, there was necessary one of those great summers of considerable
eccentricity, without the excessive drain age, which an unusually large
accumulation of ice in the opposite hemisphere would necessitate.
Each summer cycle of coal forests, or of reptile monsters, implies,
not only a long visit, and a high evaporating power of the sun, but
also the addition, to the opposite polar regions, of a weight of ice
only sufficient to draw the waters from a small part of the low and
flat lands of the warmer hemisphere. We have seen that periods of
warm, perhaps even tropical climates in polar latitudes, intervened
between the great winters of the last glacial epoch. But they have
left scarcely a trace in the strata. They were the nearest approach
possible, with the sun-power of recent times, to the conditions which of
old brought out such a profusion of animal and vegetable life. But
the only result in the later periods was, that the earth was unbal
anced. All the waters were either turned into ice, or were following
after it toward one of the poles. One side of the world was a frozen
waste, while the other was a burning waste.

I think we cannot avoid the conclusion that the sun shone with a
far intenser power on the Carboniferous swamps and the Oolitic shoals
than on the gravel-hills of the Drift ; that the oceans of early times
were wider and warmer than now, and circulated more freely between
the tropics and the polar seas ; and that the heated and moisture-
laden atmosphere retained the heat and equalized the temperature
between the equator and the poles far more than at present.

With these conditions, that is, with a greater sun-power and a
considerable eccentricity of the earth s orbit, I can conceive a rational
explanation, that which I have not yet seen in the books, of the for
mation of the coal-layers, alternated as they always are with marine
deposits. These alternations are sometimes very numerous. There
are as many as sixty distinct veins of considerable thickness, one
over another, in the coal-mines of South Wales, as also of Nova Sco
tia. There must have been, in that case, sixty periods of dry land,
each of sufficient duration to grow many forests, and each followed
by a long-continued submergence, in order that each layer should be
come fossilized, and buried beneath a shale or a limestone, which
could only have formed in the depths of a quiet sea. The books say
there were so many upheavals, and a like number of subsidences, alter
nating with each other. As if Old Earth had bent her back, for her
load of pit-coal, threescore times among the Welsh hills, and again as
many more at Halifax. It is a far more reasonable explanation, that
each considerable layer of coal indicates a cycle of long summers,
and the withdrawal of a moderate depth of the oceans from one hemi
sphere to the other, by reason of moderate accumulations of ice in

i86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

polar latitudes, and the return, again, of the waters after 10,500
years. In this way, and in no other that I can conceive of, can
be fairly explained the constant mixture and alternations of terres
trial and marine relics, all through the fossil-bearing formations,
and the hundreds, if not thousands of different and distinct strata
which are found lying one above another.

Whoever, even cursorily, studies the phenomena of geology, must
be impressed with the enormous length of time it has taken to arrange
the terrestrial substructure, and prepare it for the higher forms of
life. Even the comparatively recent period of the Bowlder Clay,
which laid out the grounds of the present area of civilization, dates
back for its commencement, as we have seen, probably 200,000
years. If it might be assumed that the Permian or New Red
Sandstone was formed during the next previous period of extraor
dinary eccentricity, which was 850,000 years ago, then the Devo
nian or Old Red Sandstone would come in, very appropriately, at
the next anterior era of extraordinary focal distance, which occurred
2,500,000 years back. The Carboniferous period, which came be
tween these two, could not have been formed in less than 1,000,000
years, as most geologists concede ; and by calculations previously
indicated, those sixty Welsh layers of coal, if there are that many,
divided oif by marine deposits of considerable thickness, would have
consumed 1,250,000 years.

The average thickness of all the strata that lie above the Old Red
Sandstone is not far from two miles. But this formation is itself, in
many places, two miles thick. And the lower Primary systems will
add at least ten miles to the vertical measure of the fossil-bearing
rocks. It is estimated that "the fossiliferous beds in Great Britain, as
a whole, are more than 70,000 feet in thickness ; " and many that are
there wanting, or nearly so, elsewhere expand into beds of immense
depth. There are certainly fifteen miles deep of strata to be account
ed for the slow accretions of the ages mainly ocean-sediment that
has come down from the wear and washings of the solid rocks. It
would be by no means a bold assumption to say that 20,000,000 years
had elapsed since the eozoon first built its reefs in the warm Lauren-
tian seas.

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 1

BY THE KEY. AET1IUR RIGG, M. A.

rpOOLS with cutting-edges are not only numerous and varied in
JL form, but they are also varied in the purposes for which they
are formed, and in the mode of using. Hence no very precise state
ment of what is generally meant by a "cutting-edge" can well be
1 From a lecture delivered before the London Society of Arts.

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 187

given. Three classes, however, of such tools may be marked out, and
into one or other of these it is probable all those tools which can
properly be defined as tools with cutting-edges may be arranged.

A first class will comprehend tools which meeting the work at a
particular angle continue the path of each portion of the edge in the
same straight line. Axes, adzes, gouges, chisels, and planes (as ordi
narily used by carpenters), belong to this class. Such tools are brought
into action either by impact or by direct thrust. The adaptation of
machinery to tools in this class is easy, because the cutting-edge has
to describe only a straight line, and this done once, if the place of
application be removed, a repetition of impact or thrust in the same
direction will suffice.

FIG. 1. ADZE OF FLINT.

A second class will comprehend tools which, while as a rule retain
ing the angle at which they are applied to the work, the path of any
portion of the tool is not a straight but a curved line. Tools of Class
2 are seldom acted upon by direct impact, or simple thrust. To adapt
them to machine-work requires either a compound motion in the tool,
or a motion compounded of the tool and work. When used as handi
craft tools, this compound motion is derived from the muscular ac
tions of the body of the workman, or the mechanical contrivances of
construction in the tool. Knives, shears, razors, and saws, belong to
this class. And to this class belong those tools in which what are
mechanical contrivances for causing a " draw cut" are introduced, e. g.,
certain garden and pruning shears, also, hay and bread cutting knives.
There is a motion in the human jaws which gives to the cutting
teeth this " draw cut," and so they separate what is between them as
draw-cut scissors might do. Indeed, all tools in this class operate
most efficiently when acting upon the " draw-cut " system.

Hence, while certain of the human teeth belong to Class 1, others
belong to Class 2. The contrivance in the jointing of the lower jaw
to the upper in man is a compound one, adapting itself to three
motions, one or other of which is found in many tools. There is up-

i88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and-down motion, enabling certain of the teeth to cut meat as nippers
do. There is also a backward-and-forward motion, producing a saw
or file like operation, and there is a lateral or side motion, producing
such a result as that of grinding. It is probable that, from observa
tion on the action of the teeth, the " draw cut," so essential to the
perfection of tools that really cut, has been suggested.

FIG. 2. DOUBLE -EDGED AXE or GREENSTONE.

Class 3 will comprehend those tools in which rotation is more
usual than rectilineal motion. The tools in this class are constructed
on principles allied to those in the two former classes. All drilling
and boring tools belong to this class.

The action of tools with cutting-edges in Class 1, being the most
simple, had better be first considered. As axes and adzes belong to
this class, and as the structure of habitations probably led our ances
tors to the formation of tools, doubtless that form of cutting-instru
ment which most commended itself to these primitive artificers would
be the first to be constructed. Passing by the very early form, we
may commence with a consideration of the edge of the axe or adze,
when that edge became part of a constructed implement, and not a
mere piece of sharp-edged flint. The construction essential to the
tool is a handle, or, as it is called, a " helve." The shape of this helve,
and the mode in which the head or metal of the axe is attached to it,
are well worthy of some preliminary attention.

Perhaps here may be drawn the distinction between narrow and
broad axes and hatchets. Axes are tools to be used with both hands ;
they have long handles, and may be swung as sledge-hammers.
Hatchets are to be used with one hand, have short handles, they are
much lighter and thinner than axes, and are employed more in the
trimming than in the hewing of timber. Both narrow and broad axes
are employed in forestry, the woodman s choice being affected by the

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 189

size of the timber and the character of the fibre. A hatchet is handled
with the centre of gravity nearer the cutting-edge than the line of the
handle ; an axe with the centre of gravity in the line of handle pro
duced. Of this, however, more hereafter.

The mode of attaching a handle to an axe in the bronze age is
very instructive to us. The illustrations are suggestive enough, and
need only a passing remark. It will be observed that for the pur
pose of handling, some of these axes are socketed, others wedge-
pointed. The socketed ones were evidently handled as we handle
socketed chisels. There is, however, one peculiarity, and that worthy
of consideration. These bronze hatchets have in many instances a
semicircular, ring-like projection (see Figs. 4 and 5), the object of
which was for a long time a puzzle, but the suggested mode of
handling the implements, if correct as seen in the diagram, points
to a knowledge of directions of tension and of pressure, which engi
neers at the present day cannot but admire. If any one has ever
struck a common hatchet to any great depth into timber, and care
lessly endeavored to loosen it by raising the extremity of the handle,
he may have found the handle separate from the metal near the junc
tion of the two. Now the withe, or lashing, shown in this bronze in
strument, has been put, as we should put it at the present day, in
order to strengthen the connection at this, the weakest part.

FIG. 3. FlG - 4 -

Figs. 3, 4, 5, are examples of the modes of handling these ancient
bronze hatchets. Fig. 3 is the most primitive. Fig. 4 and Fig. 5
illustrate the mode adopted to strengthen by tension-cords the weak
est part of the handle. A remnant of this tension-cord is probably

190 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

seen in the increased depth now given to the handle, where it enters
the eye. It will be noticed that Fig. 5 is socketed as a carpenter s
heavy mortising-chisel. The commendable pride of these prehistoric
workmen in the beauty of their tools may be inferred from the orna
mentation of these bronze axe-blades.

When we pass from the tool and its contrived handle to the mode
of using, and the purpose for which it has been constructed, we find,
as a rule, a cutting-edge formed by two inclined surfaces meeting at
an angle, the bisecting line of which passes through the middle of the
metal. It is very apparent that the more acute this angle is, the
greater, under the same impact, will be the penetrative power of the
axe into the material against which it is driven. This supposition
very soon needs to be qualified, for suppose the material offers a great
resistance to the entrance of this edge, then the effect of the blow,
upon the principle that action and reaction are equal, will react upon
the edge, and the weakest, either edge of axe or object struck, must
yield. Here, then, primitive experience would be obliged to qualify
the simple tool in which the edge was keen and acute, and would nat
urally sacrifice the keenness and acuteness to strength.

When early uses of the axe are considered, it will be noticed that,
even in fashioning with an axe or adze the same piece of wood, differ
ent conditions of edge are requisite. If the blow be given in the direc
tion of the fibre, resistance to entrance of the edge is much less than
in the blow across that fibre. So great, indeed, may this difference
become, that while the axe in Class 1 seems in all respects a suitable
tool, yet as the attention of the workman passes to directions inclined
to the fibre at an angle of more than forty-five degrees, he will be in
duced to lay aside the tools in Class 1, and try those in Class 2 ; for
he will have found that while in the one direction of the wood the
edge of his axe continues sound and efficient, yet a few blows on the
same timber at right angles to this direction have seriously damaged
the perfection of the edge, whatever may be the angle at which the
faces meet which constitute the edge.

These remarks apply only to tools used in dividing materials, and
not to tools used in preparation of surfaces of materials. This pre
liminary consideration prepares us for the different circumstances
under which these two classes of tools may be respectively used.
And as the contrast of the effect of the same tool under different cir
cumstances in the same substance is considerable, great also is likely
to be the contrast between the edges of the tools and the manner of
using them, e. g., the axe, which is the proper tool in the direction of
the fibre, is operated upon by impact, while a saw, which is the proper
tool across the fibre, is operated upon by tension or thrust, but never
by impact.

The mode in which the axe is used will explain why it is unsuited
for work across the fibre. The axe is simply a wedge, and therefore

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 191

arranged to cleave, rather than to cut, the wood. Now, a calculation
of the pressure necessary to thrust forward a wedge, and the impact
necessary to cause the same wedge to enter the same depth, would
explain why (regarded as a wedge only) the handle proves an import
ant adjunct to the arm of the workman. Any one may test this by
using an ordinary-handled hatchet on a soft straight-grained wood,
or he may take a small axe with a straight and not a curved edge ;
let it rest upon a lump of moderately soft clay. Add weights until it
has sunk to any decided depth, then take the axe by the head, and
by pressure force the edge to the same depth. Next, hold the axe by
the handle, first at, say, one foot from the head, then at two feet, then
perhaps at three feet, and give blows which seem of equal intensity,
and mark the depth. Thus a practical testimony to the value of a
handle will be borne by the respective depths.

A few words about the motion of the hands and the handle they
grasp ; and then a consideration of the curves given to the cutting-
edges of axes, adzes, etc. ; also to the wedge-like sections of the edges.
These will be all that can now be considered.

The motions of the hands on the handle of an axe are similar to
those of a workman on that of the sledge-hammer. The handle of a
properly-handled axe is curved, that of a sledge-hammer is straight.
For present consideration this curvature may be overlooked, although
it plays an important part in the using of an axe with success and
ease. If the almost unconscious motions of a workman skilled in the
use of an axe be observed, it will be noticed that, while the hand far
thest from the axe-head grasps the handle at the same or nearly the
same part, the other hand, or the one nearest to the head, frequently
moves. Let us follow these motions and consider the effect of them.
The axe has just been brought down with a blow and entered be
tween the fibres of the wood. In this position it may be regarded as
wedged in the wood, held in fact by the pressure of the fibres against
the sides of the axe. From this fixity it must be released, and this
is usually done by action on or near the head. For this purpose the
workman slides his hand along the handle, and, availing himself (if
need be) of the oval form of the handle after it has passed through
the eye of the metal, he releases the head. The instrument has now
to be raised to an elevation ; for this purpose his hand remains near
to the head, so causing the length of the path of his hand and that
of the axe-head to be nearly the same. The effect of this is to require
but a minimum of power to be exerted by the muscles in raising the
axe ; whereas, if the hand had remained near the end of the handle
most distant from the head, then the raising of the axe-head would
have been done at what is called a mechanical disadvantage. Indeed,
if a workman will notice the position of the hand (which does not
slide along the handle) before and after the blow has been given, he will
find that its travel has been very small indeed. Remembering that

192 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the power exerted to raise a body is in the inverse ratio of the spaces
passed through by the body, and the point of application of the power,
it may thus be obvious how great a strain will be on the muscles if
the axe-head be raised by the hands at the opposite extremity of the
handle. Reverse the problem. Take the axe-head as raised to such
an elevation as to cause the handle to be vertical (we are dealing
with ordinary axes, the handles being in the plane of the axe-blade).
Now, the left hand is at the extremity of the handle, the right hand
is very near to the axe-head the blow is about to be given. The
requirement in this case is that there should be concentrated at the
axe-head all the force or power possible ; hence to ease the descent
would be as injudicious as to intensify the weight of the lift. Con
sequently, while with the hand nearest to the head (as it is when the
axe reaches its highest elevation) the workman momentarily forces
forward the axe, availing himself of the leverage now formed by re
garding the left hand as the fulcrum of motion, he gives an impulse,
and this impelling force is continued until an involuntarily conscious
ness assures him that the descending speed of the axe is in excess of
any velocity that muscular efforts can maintain. To permit gravity
to have free play, the workman withdraws the hand nearest to the
head, and, sliding it along the handle, brings it close to the left hand,
which is at the extremity of the handle ; thus the head comes down
upon the work with all the energy which a combination of muscular
action and gravity can effect. The process is repeated by the right
hand sliding along the handle, and releasing as well as raising the
head.

FIG. 6.

The form of the axe-handle deserves notice, differing as it does
from that of the sledge-hammer. In the latter it is round or nearly
so, in the axe it is oval, the narrow end of the oval being on the side
toward the edge of the axe, and, more than this, the longer axis of
the oval increases as the handle approaches the head, till at its en
trance into the. head it may be double what it is at the other extrem
ity. It often has also a projection at the extremity of the handle.
The increasing thickness near the head not only gives strength where
needed, as the axe is being driven in, but it also supplies that for
which our ancestors employed the thongs as illustrated in Figs. 4 and
5. There is, too, this further difference in a sledge-hammer more or
less recoil has to be provided for, and the handle does this ; in the
axe no recoil ought to take place. The entrance of the axe-edge is,

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 193

or ought to be, sufficient to retain it, and the whole of the energy
resulting from muscular action and gravity should be utilized. The
curvature, too, of the handle is in marked contrast with the straight
line of the sledge-hammer handle. The object of this curvature is
worthy of note. In my hand is an American forester s axe. The
handle is very long and curved. If, laying the axe-handle across my
finger where the head and handle balance, I place the blade of the axe
horizontally, you may notice that the edge does not turn downward ;
in fact, the centre of gravity of the axe-head is in the horizontal
straight-line prolongation of the handle through the place where my
finger is. Now, in sledge-hammer work the face is to be brought
down flat, i. e., as a rule, in an horizontal plane. Not so with the for
ester s axe : it has to be brought down at varying obliquities. If, now,
the hewer s hand had to be counteracting the influence of gravity,
there would be added to him very needless labor ; hence the care of a
skilled forester in the balance of the axe-head and the curvature of
the handle.

We must now consider the form of the cutting-edge as seen in
the side of the axe. It is often convex. The line across the face in
Fig. 7 indicates the extent of the steel, and the corresponding line in
Fig. 8 the bevel of the cleaving edge. It will be noticed that the cut
ting-edge in each case is curved. The object of this is to prevent not
only the jar and damage which might be done by the too sudden
stoppage of the rapid motion of the heavy head in separating a group
of fibres, but also to facilitate that separation by attacking these fibres
in succession. For, assuming that the axe falls square on its work

FIG. 7.

in the direction of the fibres, a convex edge will first separate two
fibres, and in so doing will have released a portion of the bond which
held adjoining fibres. An edge thus convex, progressing at each side
of the convexity which first strikes the wood, facilitates the entrance
of successive portions from the middle outward. If the edge had
been straight and fallen parallel to itself upon the end of the wood,
none of this preliminary preparation would have taken place ; on the
contrary, in all probability there would have been in some parts a

VOL. IX. 13

194

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

progressive condensation of fibres, and to that extent an increase in
the difficulty of the work.

The equally-inclined sides of the wedge-form of edge hitherto
alone described as belonging to axes, and the equal pressure this form
necessarily exerts upon each side if a blow is given in the plane of
the axe, suggest what will be the action of an axe if the angle of the
wedcre is not bisected by the middle line of the metal. Assume that

O /

one face only is inclined, and that the plane of the other is continu
ous to the edge, then let the blow be struck as before. It will be
obvious that the plane in the line of the fibres cannot cause any sep
aration of these fibres, but the slope entering the wood will separate
the fibres on its own side. Suppose a hatchet sharpened as pre
viously described, and one as now described, are to be applied to
the same work viz., the cutting from a solid block the outside ir-

FIG. 9.

FIG. 10.

regularities say to chop the projecting edges from a square log and
to prepare it for the lathe. It may be briefly stated that the hatchet
described in the second case would do the work with greater ease to
the workman, and with a higher finish, than the ordinary equally-in
clined sides of the edge of the common hatchet. Coach-makers have

FIG. 11.

much of this class of hatchet-paring work to do, and the tool they
use is shaped as in Fig. 10. The edge is beveled on one side only,
and, under where the handle enters the eye, may be noticed a piece
rising toward the handle ; on this the finger of the workman rests in
order to steady the blade in its entrance into the timber in the plane

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 195

of the straight part o/ the blade, and to counteract the tendency of
the wedge-side pressing the hatchet out of its true plane.

ON ADZES. Those whose business requires the forming of lengths
of wood into curved shapes, and who rely upon the adze for the prelimi
nary operation, use an Indian form of adze. In India it is held so near
the metal that the workman s hand touches the metal. He accomplishes
blows chiefly by acting from the elbow. This very general mode of
holding gives a pretty uniform length to the radius of the swing, hence
the form of the adze in the plane of the swing is nearly that of the cir
cle described. The angle of the handle and the adze is very much the
same as that of the handle of the file-maker s hammer and the head.

THE TWO-HANDED ADZE. When we look at the adze as used by
English wheelwrights or shipwrights, we may well shudder to see
how it is handled, especially when the cutting-edge is taken into ac
count. The operation, briefly described, is the following : The work
man stands with one foot upon the wood, this foot being in the line
of the fibre. He thus assists in steadying (say) the felloe of a wheel.
From this felloe much of the wood oh which the sole of his shoe rests
has to be removed. It will be noticed that the long handle of the
adze is curved the object of this is to permit an efficient blow to be
given, and the instrument brought to a stop before the handle strikes
any part of the workman s body ; in fact, caused to stop by the ex
haustion of its impact energy in and among the fibres of wood to be
separated. The edge is often so keen as to cut through a horse-hair
held at one end and pressed against it.

This instrument is raised by both hands until nearly in an horizon
tal position, and then not simply allowed to fall, but steadily driven
downward until the curved metal, with its broad and sharp edge,
enters near to, if not below, the sole of the workman s shoe, separat
ing a large flake of wood from the mass ; the handle is rapidly raised,
and the blows repeated. This is done with frequency, the workman
gradually receding his foot until the end-flakes of wood are separated.
It is fearful to contemplate an error of judgment or an unsteady blow.
William Tell and the apple on his son s head are, in another
here repeated.

FIG. 12.

So skilled do men become in thus using the adze, that some will
undertake, with any predetermined stroke in a series, to sph

shoe-sole in two. , f

CUEVATURE OF ADZE.-Clearly the adze must be sharpened fron
the inside, and, when the action of it is considered, it is also clear 1
the curvature of the adze-iron must be circular, or nearly so.

196

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The true curvature of the metal may be approximately deduced
from considering the radius of the circle described by the workman s
arms, and the handle of the adze.

The edge of the adze is convex (Fig. 12), the projection in the
middle being so formed for the same reasons as influenced the curva
ture of the edge of the axe already alluded to.

The curvature in the blade also serves (though partially) as a ful
crum, for, by slightly thrusting the handle from him, the workman
may release such flakes of timber as are over the adze, and yet so
slightly adherent as not to require another blow. Thus the adze when
applied lever-fashion discharges its duty as the curvature in the claw

FIG. 13.

of a hammer does. Fig. 13 is a gouge-formed adze; a modification
of this is used in making wooden spouts, and similar hollow work.

Many of the remarks applied to axes and adzes also apply to pick
axes. It may suffice to refer to two forms of this tool ; they differ
not so much in the operative points as in the size and distribution of
the material.

The one used by paviors is long and light, and of large curvature ;
the other, used by stone-masons and quarrymen, is short-handled and
heavy, much material being concentrated in the head. There is also
another form of this instrument used on kegs, for the purpose of driv
ing home the wooden wedges ; in this form there is no point, the tool

FIG. 14.

is rather that of an elongated hammer, the ends being provided with
" panes " of different forms, set off at different angles. Such tools may
properly be consigned to the class of hammers.

The pavior s, the mason s, and the quarryman s picks are the three
to be very briefly considered. The first is properly a lever, and no

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. i 97

more; its pointed end is for entrance between stones, and then the
wooden handle and the unemployed elevated arm of the pick are
used as two lever-arms at right angles to each other ; thus motion can
be had in two planes for the varying character of the pavior s work.

Such an employment is never allotted to the stone-mason s pick.
The object of this is to remove chippings from stone much as the
single-angled edge of an axe or an adze would do with chips from
timber. It is, however, pointed and not edged, because stones are not
fibrous. The weight of the iron head corresponds exactly with that
of a heavy hammer, and, so far as this particular feature is concerned,
the considerations in relation to hammers apply.

There are peculiarities in reference to the points of these tools.
The whole of the energy of the workmen is expended upon one point
(in the carpenter s axe or the wheelwright s adze this energy is dis
tributed over an edge from four to eight inches in length), hence the
rapid wear of this point, and the necessity not of frequent grinding,
but of frequent reforging and retempering. Any attempt at grind
ing up these points would be practically unsuccessful, made as these
picks usually are, because of the mass of metal required to give that
penetration resulting from the sudden stoppage of heavy weights.
The ordinary picks are therefore sent to the smith s to be sharpened.
For this purpose they must be removed from the handle ; and this has
suggested forms of eye and handle which might with advantage be
used with some other tools.

The axes and adzes hitherto considered have been chiefly regarded
as tools for the greatest amount of heavy work to be accomplished by
a workman. They are at one extreme of the scale, the other extreme
being the removal of such small flakes as to become shavings of vary
ing thickness. In progressing from great to small, the order would
be from the axe or adze with its weighted head to a separation of the
cutting-edge and its necessary metal, and the weight which must give
the blow. Hence, in this descending scale, we reach the chisel, struck
by a mallet. Journal of the Society of Arts.

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA.

BY KEY. EGBERT WILSON.

"XTEITHER the formations nor the phenomena described in this
-IN paper are peculiar to South Carolina, and the general subject
has been frequently investigated in other limestone regions. The
present Writer, therefore, desires merely to offer some results c
own observation and experience as a contribution to the scientific 1
erature of the subject.

198 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

In that portion of the State which lies between the Santee and the
head-waters of the Cooper commences a chain of so-called springs which
present some exceedingly interesting features. Before describing them
it may be well to note the surroundings. The face of the country is
flat, without a single hill worthy the name. The soil is a sandy loam,
and, being within the thermal influences exerted by the Gulf Stream
along the entire lower coast-line for fifty miles or more inland, is well
adapted to the culture of the " long-stapled," " black-seed," or " sea-
island" cotton, but yields poor crops of corn, and no pasturage. The
lower bank of the river is always covered by " the swamp," with its
dense canebrakes and its heavy growth of cypress. The upland is a
broad and rich belt, dotted with cotton-plantations, and well wooded
with oak, hickory, gum, and similar trees. Winding about through
this belt is a high ridge of sandy, barren soil, covered by the long-
leaved or turpentine pine and a thick undergrowth of " scrub-oak."
It is in the middle or plantation belt that the " springs " occur. In
both swamp and pine-land the water is soft, while that of the springs
is strongly charged with lime, and, unless boiled and iced, decidedly
laxative. Good pure water can usually be obtained, however, within
a few hundred yards from " pine-land wells," or " freestone " springs.
The country abounds in game, especially the swamps bear, deer,
wild-cats, the gray fox, and other small quadrupeds, with turkeys,
partridges, woodcock, snipe, and indeed all birds, common to the lati
tude. No rocks or bowlders are to be found. The springs occur at
irregular intervals over a space of some thirty miles, at least ; whether
beyond that distance or not I do not know. They are not properly
springs, there being no case which I can remember where any bub
bling or oozing of the water occurs, nor is there any adequate outlet
from any of the basins ; a small and shallow stream, or " run," which
is soon absorbed by the swampy soil, being the only way of escape
for the water, while in some cases, as we shall see, there is absolutely
no way for it to escape.

Let us now proceed to examine a few of these basins in detail.
The most remarkable of them all is on the " Woodboo " plantation,
about forty miles from Charleston. Walking toward a clump of tall
cypresses, you suddenly find yourself on the brink of a miniature
lake, the ground being firm up to the water s edge. An irregular
basin, about fifty yards long by a dozen wide, is hollowed out in
the blue limestone-rock which underlies the soil but a few inches from
the surface, and this is filled to the brim with slightly opaline yet
perfectly clear water. The bottom slopes abruptly from either side to
the middle, where it is fully twelve feet deep, and where exists an
irregular fissure extending the whole length of the basin, and varying
from two to six inches (apparently) in width. The basin swarms with
fish of every variety common to the waters of the region, and of every
size. Schools of fry keep near the edges, hundreds in number, while

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 199

in the deeper water may be seen full-grown perch and bream, catfish,
black bass, pike, and alewives. Watch the bottom for a while, and
you will see these fish issuing from the fissure in the rock, the larger
bass (four to eight pounders) never venturing far from it, and darting
into it at the least alarm. I well remember a pike nearly three feet
long which I have often struck with a fishing-cane, but which I never
could capture. The largest fish will not take the hook, on account of
the exposure to view; but the smaller bream, perch, and bass, bite with
great eagerness, and I have often caught from twenty to sixty in an
afternoon, selecting the best fish by sight, and placing the bait at their
very mouths. Sometimes the basin is almost empty of fish ; an hour
afterward enough will be visible to overstock a dozen ponds of equal
size. By day eels are rarely visible, and you may stir up all the
patches of grass along the bed without discovering one; at night they
are frequently caught, the negroes sometimes " gigging " them of the
largest size. The temperature of the water is the same winter and
summer, about 62, and the fish bite best in the coldest weather. I
have examined the sandy margins at all seasons, and have never seen
a fish-bed in this or any other of the springs. They do not breed in
them, and indeed could not possibly do so.

From the lower extremity of this large basin proceeds the " run,"
a shallow, winding stream down which the larger fish could not pos
sibly make their way. Indeed, I once caught a two-pound bass
stranded, having essayed the passage and failed. Following this run
about five hundred yards, we come suddenly on another busin, circu
lar in form and much smaller than the first. Its greatest diameter
is probably not over fifteen feet, while its greatest depth, near the
centre, is fully ten. The bottom descends like a huge funnel, but on
one side there is a projecting ledge of rock, under which, sloping
downward in a direction away from the upper basin, is a hole seem
ingly about a foot in diameter. Out of this hole bass and pike of the
largest size are seen to emerge, while the upper basin is filled with
small bream and sunfish, biting readily at angle-worms, and occasion
ally a large red-bellied perch, a species rarely seen in the basin, will
dart from under the rock-ledge and seize the bait. The little stream
is lost at this basin, which has no outlet, but is surrounded by a wet,
swampy piece of ground. Not far from these basins marl has been
extensively dug, and one or two beds of greensand have been found,
but I never knew the hard limestone-rock which forms the bottom of
the springs to be struck in any of the excavations.

Proceeding now in a northwesterly direction, we find another of
these basins on a plantation about two miles off. The ground falls
suddenly into a little valley about twelve feet deep and six or seven
wide, at the head of which stands a very old oak-tree, growing on the
upper level. On the southeast the roots have been exposed by the
washing of the clay soil, and immediately under them lies the spring.

200 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

This is a basin inclosed by an octagonal brick wall, where, for a cen
tury or more, the washing of the plantation and other such matters
have been performed. Directly under the oak-tree is a ledge of rock,
over which the w T ater is about two feet deep. It grows more shallow
toward the " run," where its depth is but a few inches ; the entire
basin is about thirteen feet by ten. The above-mentioned ledge of
rock forms the roof of a cave-like aperture some eighteen inches high
by three or four feet wide, into whose dark recesses the eye cannot
penetrate, the bottom sloping away in a northwesterly direction under
the hill which sustains the old oak. Schools of minnows frequent the
shallow part, and hide in the water-grass ; stir this grass with a cane
or stick, and occasionally you may frighten out a small bream or sun-
fish, but very few fish of any sort are seen in the shallow basin, and
these few refuse the most tempting bait. Now, the proper rock-basin
here lies just in front of the cavernous opening, and is some six feet
deep, but scarcely four in diameter. Drop your line there, and, if all
is quiet, in a moment your float will dart diagonally down under the
rock, and you may draw out a yellow-bellied perch, a blue bream, or
a sun-perch of half a pound weight. Look in, and you will see huge
bass lying with their heads only visible at the opening, or flashing
their silvery sides as they turn into its unknown recesses. I once
detected a pair of white eyes peering from the grass at the mouth of
this cavern, and, dropping my bait just in front of them, was aston
ished at hooking an enormous mud-fish; this fish must have weighed
five pounds, and he carried several yards of tackle right into the
bowels of the earth, whence it soon emerged minus hook and lead.
The "run" to this basin is not more than three inches deep any
where, and sinks entirely into a quaking bog some hundred yards
from its source. No fish over an inch long could swim seventy yards
from the basin, and there is no communication whatever with any
other water.

Leaving the "Pooshee Spring," we now ride a little to the east of
north, and, at the distance of about two miles, we reach " Moore s
Fountains," the most remarkable of the group. Crossing a little
" bay " in the pine-land, you notice under your feet a miniature Natu
ral Bridge, a span of rock about six feet wide covered with earth, and
a little hole full of clear water on either side. Walking among the
pines about a hundred yards to the right, you reach the " Fountains,"
six or seven holes in the ground, the largest of which is about five
feet by eight, and in general character like the larger basins before
described, but much more shallow. All these holes contain large
numbers of small perch and bream, which bite readily in the winter,
but are hardly worth catching. A little to the right of them used to
stand two large twin-pines, and directly between their roots was a
hole not more than two feet in diameter, and which you could not
detect until you stood on its very edge. (I use the past tense, as the

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 201

trees may have fallen in the ten years since I stood beside them.)
This hole seems to go sheer down into the earth, and I have never
been able to sound its depth with the longest fishing-line or rod
which I had with me. Setting my float about ten feet deep, however,
and " bobbing " into it by hand, I have caught, from between those
trees, from thirty to sixty good-sized bream and perch of different
species, in the course of two hours. The float w T ould go straight
down, as if the fish were descending into the bowels of the earth.

The next spring of which I know the existence is at " The Rocks "
plantation, some twelve miles away, and the last of the chain is the
famous "Eutaw Springs," where a battle was fought during the
Revolution. At the latter place there are two openings, some dis
tance apart, and tradition says that an Indian once dived into one
and emerged from the other. I do not know whether fish are caught
in these or not. No connection has ever been traced between these
springs, or fountains, and the neighboring rivers, either of which
the Santee and the Cooper is many miles away. Here, then, is the
proof of a subterranean stream, or more probably lake, inhabited by
fish in immense numbers, and of the same species found in the neigh
boring waters. These fish have perfect eyes, and differ in no respect
from their fellows of the ponds and rivers, except that they invariably
present that bright, clean appearance characteristic of fish taken from
pure, clear water. They must pass freely through the whole course
of the underground caverns, for, were all the open basins put together
in one, it would not afford food or breeding-space for one hundredth
part of the number found in any one of them, and they must live
most of their time in utter darkness, for the little openings at which
they appear are few in number and many miles apart. The indica
tions seem to be that this enormous subterranean cave or water-course
is hollowed out through a narrow stratum of limestone-rock which
winds its way in a southeasterly direction; but it may be of far
greater extent. Near Pineville, some ten miles from the nearest
spring, and considerably off the course, there is a certain spot in the
public road where the sound of the horse s feet is precisely like the
noise made in crossing an earth-covered bridge, and tradition tells of
treasure buried there in Revolutionary times. The water in this sec
tion shows no lime, nor indeed does it anywhere except in the springs
themselves. The negroes of the region have invested these springs
with a supernatural interest, peopling them with water-spirits known
as " Cymbees," resembling in their imaginary characters the Undines
and kelpies of the Old World.

202 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MATHEMATICS IX EVOLUTION.

BY GEOEGE ILES.

WHILE we know that only Infinite Intelligence could reduce the
entire phenomena of the universe to mathematical expression,
it affords an observer constant surprise to find primitive laws of
order and number recur again and again amid the infinite variety of
Nature.

The spectroscope would seem to indicate that the elements of our
present chemistry are really very complex structures, yet we find
them, when grouped in all sorts of proportions as molecules, capable
of crystallizing in forms of perfect geometrical symmetry, often of
much simplicity. In botany, where the factors both chemically and
mechanically are extremely various, we find simple laws obeyed in
the disposition of leaves, flowers, and parts of flowers ; a remarkable
instance of which occurs in the growth of leaves on spirally-leaved
plants. In the first order of them, a leaf is found in |- the circumfer
ence of the stem, and throughout the series the arcs occupied by a
leaf are respectively |, |, f , T 5 , / T , and -Jj-, of a circle, the numerator
and denominator of each fraction being those of the two next pre
ceding added together. !

In the highest plane of Nature, that of animal forms, the condi
tions fulfilled are too complex to permit any formulation of lines and
angles, but natural history in its first chapters gives us the habita
tions of the nautilus and other organisms low in the scale of life,
which in their beautiful volutes and spirals embody simple geometry.
So also does the architecture of our common insects, the bee, wasp,
and spider, which, wonderful as it is, must remain less so than the
work of the microscopic coral zoophytes, which, while severally living
and building where it is easiest, yet unconsciously cooperate through
successive generations to complete a structure of comparatively vast
proportions and much symmetrical unity.

These few examples, which might be multiplied indefinitely, may
serve as bases for the opinion that complex wholes, acting in many
cases like -simple ones, may be more easily reducible to mathematical
treatment than might at first view be supposed, from the number and
variety of ultimate factors concerned in any given problem. Nature
would seem to act by but few first principles, which she constantly
repeats in her various fields, and which, combined in different ways,
yield all her infinite manifestations. The scientific progress of our
times is marked by the continual absorption of diverse laws into
higher and more general ones ; thus the forms of force that used to be
thought distinct entities are now proved to be interchangeable, and
therefore essentially the same. A minor instance of a like kind occurs

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 203

in the recent investigation of wave-motion. The old notion was that
the particles in water-waves moved up and down in straight lines,
but the fact has been demonstrated that they roll in circles having
a diameter equal to the amplitude of the wave ; this holds of all
wave-motion, including light, so that the movements of the planets,
as they turn on their axes and circle round the sun, are conveyed to
our sight by an ethereal motion of precisely the same kind.

Although mathematical studies find ample illustration in Nature,
an exaggerated love of symmetry may be induced by them, causing
an enthusiast to pass legitimate bounds in au effort to over-simplify
intricate problems ; thus Kepler attempted to harmonize the orbits
of the five planets with the boundaries of the five regular solids suc
cessively contained in each other. Such a vagary, however, could be
pardoned in the author of the three immortal laws of astronomy.

In the present stage of knowledge so few of the sciences are ex
act, that any application of mathematics to the vast and complex
processes of evolution is only allowable when the laws considered
would be so powerful, did they work in an open field, that, though
veiled by many weaker ones, they remain distinctly discernible in
the salient features of Nature.

A valid application of this kind is made by Mr. Darwin in his
theory of natural selection, where he states the tendency of organ
isms to multiply according to the law of geometrical progression
a tendency which he shows counts throughout the mazy conflict of
forces affecting organic life. The purpose of this paper is to trace
some effects of other such laws, in their theoretical simplicity so ex
tremely potent, that their results persist through all practical quali
fications, and so, when shown to account for observed facts, may serve
as tenable ground for inference and deduction.

In evolution heterogeneity is a constant measure of progress, hence
the laws stating the variety of effects producible from given elements
have a direct interest and value. These are the laws of combination
and permutation. Combinations, mathematically, are groups where
the presence and not the position of an element counts for difference
thus B C A and B A C are the same combination but different per
mutations. As additions are made to the elements, combinations in
crease in geometrical progression with 2 as constant factor. Thus 2
elements yield 4 ; 3, 8 ; 4, 16 ; until, when we reach 63, the number
of elements in chemistry, we find more than nine quintillions of com
binations to be possible. This law tends to hold only in cases where
the particular position of an element in a group is indifferent, as in
the superimposition of colors in light ; as in the simple molecules of
chemistry, where, for instance, the result is the same, whether ^H a
unites with O, or O with IF ; and as in all merely mechanical mixing
of ingredients in manufacture, as pottery, gunpowder, and so on. Such
cases are less common in Nature and art than those in whicli definite

204 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

positions are points of difference, as we find in the atomic grouping
of compound molecules, where the phenomena of isomerism appear ;
in the order of successive sounds, whether in language or music ; and
as in the various series in which muscular and nervous forces coordi
nate in animal movements. In all such cases the multiplication of
effects tends to follow a law of even greater increase than that of geo
metrical progression namely, the law of permutations.

If A B C be elements given, their permutations in groups of 3 are
(3x2x1), in groups of 2, 6 more, and adding 3 for the elements
taken singly, 15 is obtained as the number of permutations of all
kinds. The addition of a new element increases them to 64 (15x4 + 4),
and so on in a ratio increasing with every additional element, until
we find that 10 produce 9,856,900 permutations, and but 1,024 combi
nations.

These abstract laws are paralleled by the multiplied results which
follow in the wake of any important invention or discovery. Forty
years ago the main arts of representation were five in number sculp
ture, painting, printing, engraving, and lithography. The art of photog
raphy, introduced by Daguerre in 1839, and since so beautifully de
veloped, is continually increasing derivative arts. It is applicable to
every other main art, and may become an element in new permu-
tative groups of them. It has already given aid to the sculptor, the
painter, and the engraver, and in the heliotype and woodburytype
exhibits relations with lithography and printing; besides, it has added
to human power in many other ways, has made the stereoscope avail
able, bringing the natural beauties and artistic treasures of distant
lands vividly near ; it has aided astronomy in fixing views of tran
sits and eclipses of brief duration, and in mapping the sun and moon;
the physiologist has used it to preserve the evanescent exhibitions of
dissection ; and in observatories it accurately marks the minute move
ments of delicate apparatus. It limns the interiors of pyramids,
catacombs, caves, and mines, giving incidental help to archaeology
and geology ; and, in regions inaccessible to man, pictures the depths
of the sea. It serves in war and might in peace to aid the topog
rapher in mapping plans of city and country; in times of siege it
has reduced correspondence to microscopic limits for carriage in the
only possible way by birds ; and from year to year this wonderful
art continues to be applied in new and valuable uses.

The illustration it affords of the manner in which human resources
are multiplied by the accession of a new discovery might be repeated,
were all the applications and results of the steam-engine, locomotive,
or telegraph, traced in their numerous ramifications. So far from
these mighty achievements exhausting the conquests possible to man,
they are merely centres of new circles of power from which he may
successively penetrate into the ever-boundless regions of the unknown.

The late Mr. Mill, at a period of great depression in his early life,

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 205

found relief in the charms of music, and strangely enough dreaded an
exhaustion of it, just as many other people who have not the excuse
of morbid ailment think that all the greatest possible discoveries have
been made, and that all the finest things in prose and verse have been
said. Such notions are denied by the laws which have been stated,
as exemplified not only in the diversity and might of modern achieve
ment, but also in the deep relations between the elements of natural
action divulged by their very multiplication of effects ; the generali
zations of this age have never been equaled in scope and force the
persistence of force and the theory of evolution.

As sciences advance, their essential unity becomes more and more
evident; methods that at first view would seem utterly unconnected
are being constantly found to have a secret and helpful family tie.
The comparative value of various types of bridges has been investi
gated by submitting glass models duly weighted to polarized light,
which shows at once the distributions of strain and pressure. A
common magnetic needle has been successfully employed in finding
weak places in iron and steel axles by its unequal deflection at such
points, due to internal heterogeneity in the mass examined. At Paris
recently an underground pneumatic tube became obstructed at an
unknown point ; excavation was correctly guided by the adoption of
an acoustic principle ; a loud sound was made at the tube s entrance,
and the time occupied before the reflected wave returned was care
fully noted, from which was inferred the distance traversed by it to
and from the obstacle. Many instruments at first made for purely
philosophical study have been drafted into the world s practical
uses. Applications of the rheostat and Wheatstone s bridge serve to
locate the oft-recurring breaks in ocean-cables and telegraph-lines,
and have very lately yielded the marvellous duplex and quadruplex
telegraphs. The spectroscope, originally directed to the heavens, has
now found uses on earth of great value; it detects adulteration,
marks defectiveness in drainage, and points out impurities in water-
supplies. 1

1 A proposition in pure mathematics may receive elucidation and extension by an
illustration taken from optics. In Newton s " Principia," book i., section xii., prop. 70,
he proves, in a manner very difficult to follow, that a corpuscle placed within a hollow
sphere, if attracted as the square of the distance by all the points in the concave sur
face, will remain unmoved wherever placed, as the sums of attraction always balance.

This may be made clear not only of a spherical surface, but the closed interior of any
surface whatever, provided it has no reentrant angles, as a pyramid or an obliquely-
truncated cone.

For, imagine the corpuscle to be luminous and to be bisected by any plane extended
so as to cut the containing hollow surface into two parts, it is evident that equal
amounts of light are radiated by each half of the corpuscle on each of the two parts of
the surface containing it. Now, these rays diminish in intensity as the square of the
distance, and so reciprocally correspond with a force emanating according to the same
law from the surface and affecting the corpuscle. Hence, the area of the surface of any
hollow body, having no reentrant angles, varies as the square of its average distance
from any point within it.

206 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

So that, in the tree of knowledge, as the branches grow in all direc
tions, their offshoots come to touch at innumerable points.

The multiplication of effects may be traced not only in physics,
chemistry, and cognate sciences, but also in the chapters of natural
history and the facts of human life. The organized faculties of an
animal which are distinctly different may be considered of course,
with proper, qualification as elements which may be grouped per-
mutatively in the various actions directed to aid maintenance or pro
mote safety ; although, in the case of any particular variety of a
species, a vast discrepancy must exist between the theoretical results
of the mathematical law and the number of different groupings really
made, yet, if the discrepancy is tolerably constant in degree in any
two successive cases, the relations between two such cases may be
stated by the law with an approximation to truth. Thus if a variety
of quadrupeds with, say, four distinct and presumedly averaged pow
ers be taken, at first sight it would seem but one-third better off in the
struggle for existence than another variety with three several powers ;
yet the one may have an advantage over the other as great as four
to one, for the variety of actions possible to the former may cover a
field four times as great as the others. This aids us in understanding
why variations in useful rather than those in useless directions tend
strongly to persist. They do so because of the immense exaltation
of power that comes with the development of any new faculty, any
new means of securing a livelihood or escaping danger; and so great
is this exaltation that even minor degrees of development have an
appreciable value and tend to become permanent and to increase.

The effects of the laws under consideration also help to make clear
why transition periods in organic Nature have been brief as revealed
in their infrequent traces in such geological records as we possess.

When new circumstances have demanded the acquisition of new
powers, or rather the development of dormant ones, the odds have
been overwhelming against such individuals of a race as have been
inelastic in the required direction, so that in a comparatively short
period all that lived knew the new lesson.

A further corollary which harmonizes with observed facts is that,
as species progress, an ever-increasing width of gap would separate
kind from kind, and the highest individual of a kind from the next
below it. The lowest organisms, monera, have no definite shape ;
polyps, some grades above them, conform very tolerably to a certain
outline ; and so on in the scale of life an increasing individuality keeps
pace with an increasing divergency, until man and the tree mark the
two great summits of Nature in her animal and vegetal forms.

Many able students of the theory of evolution stop short at the
chasm which divides the human climax from the allied primates, and
hesitate to believe that there can be a common origin for apes and
the race which has produced a Beethoven and a Raphael ; but a con-

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 207

sideration of the laws which have been stated, and which are closely
borne out by observation, would lead us to expect just what we find,
namely, in the processes of development intermediate links would
drop out after comparatively brief existence between planes of life
increasingly separated, so that the last difference of power and intelli
gence would be the greatest of all.

And, furthermore, the same laws make intelligible the vast gulfs
we find fixed between our intellectual giants and the rest of mankind,
so that they form a small solitary band above us all, leaving a mere
understanding of their mighty works the test of our highest powers.
A single English dramatist and a single English mathematician have
probably equaled in scope and excellence of original work, in their
several fields, all the like labors of their countrymen put together.

Two other mathematical laws, abstractedly of great power and
generality, may be noticed in the many phases of evolution, namely,
those treating of the relations between areas and solids of the same
form, varying in size. In like plane figures, boundaries increase di
rectly as like dimensions and areas, as the square ; in similar solids,
surfaces increase as the square and contents, as the cube of like dimen
sions. These laws state in an abstract way the economy of aggrega
tion, whether domestic, industrial, social, or political. The farmer
profits by them when he takes down costly- fences in enlarging his
domain ; the ship-builder avails himself of them when he models his
monster craft which shall carry the cargo of half a dozen small vessels
at half the expense ; the Broadway architect embodies them in
his lofty designs, rivaling in a business structure the height of a
common church-steeple, putting two ordinary buildings on one lot of
ground.

From the time when animals first noticed that two together were
stronger than two singly, the gregarious instinct has been assisted in
taking a firm hold on many species from its usefulness in attack and
defense ; where it is not exhibited, exceptional circumstances prevent :
for instance, a spider would have nothing to gain by going into part
nership, for it preys on flies much weaker than itself, and no company
of spiders, however large, could do battle with a swallow, or a house
maid armed with a broom.

Speaking in a general way, such savage tribes of men as have had
the strongest social feeling, and the largest mutual confidence, have,
other things equal, had an advantage over less coherent neighbors,
and so on,untit now modern history deals with national groups fewer
than ever before, and becoming fewer still.

In commerce, also, the largest banks, mercantile firms, and facto
ries, grow continually larger by virtue of the less expense attending
the management of extensive groups. The costly competition of
many small manufactories and merchants is passing away before the
more economical methods of a few strong concerns. Cooperation in

zoS THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

labor, and in the supply of a community with goods, has succeeded to
an encouraging extent in Europe, and in some degree on this continent.

In domestic life, also, the burden of sustaining the usual isolated
homes is beginning to be thought grievous and unnecessary. The
constant repetition of the same details on a small scale, in cooking,
warming, and attendance, is evidently subject to a large discount in
cost, and increase of comfort, when a number of families combine to
have a single kitchen, heating-furnace, and corps of servants. Many
solutions of this problem have been attempted with various success ;
large houses rented in flats, copied from European models, adorn some
of the chief streets of New York and Boston, and hotels on all sorts
of systems are to be found in our principal cities, numbering among
their patrons thousands of families. It may be reasonably expected
that in the near future some plan will be arrived at, and widely
accepted, combining the benefits of individual homes with the advan
tages of association ; but, for this result, an improvement in our pres
ent crude-ness of social feelings must take place. Great is the pre
mium placed on the growth of mutual harmony and confidence, yet
how slow that growth is !

A process analogous to aggregation is that of concentration, which
marks many of the forms of progress. When a force operates against
a lesser one of constant amount, concentration multiplies its efficiency.

If a common furnace s heat is 3,500, and a temperature of say
3,000 is required to melt iron, then but 500 of 3,500 are available
for that purpose ; but, when the same quantity of heat is presented at
4,200, 1,200 of 4,200 may be utilized, an efficiency twice as great
as the former. Hence the value of such an invention as the hot-blast,
increasing the intensity of flame: the inert and diluting nitrogen is
mingled w T ith the oxygen of common air by the feeble force of diffu
sion ; if they could be cheaply separated, it would mightily enhance
the value of coal. Steam-engines, as now constructed, rarely yield
in work more than a tenth the equivalent of heat applied; the chief
waste is in the exhaust-steam, which, although in immense quantity,
is of too low a temperature to raise more steam. Any feasible plan
of concentration is all that is wanted to make the steam-engine more
powerful; its duty has already been nearly doubled by the use of
much higher pressures than Watt employed or sanctioned. A pebble
on a sea-beach may have been exposed to the sun for ages without
perceptible effect, but the focusing of a lens may reduce it to the
liquid state in a few moments with no more solar beams than might
have otherwise idly fallen upon it in an hour. This same principle
also obtains in the operations of trade and business : the expenses of
a railroad, steamship, or hotel, are pretty constant, and a certain
amount of patronage pays them ; beyond this point profits rapidly
accumulate, and below it so do losses; small fluctuations produce
large results in the balance-sheet.

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 209

Successive increments of difference in degree may gradually merge
and become exalted into a difference in kind. A number of pendu
lums might, if uuresisted, vibrate in an arc forever, but, if on one of
them the movements of the others are suitably concentrated, its arc
will gradually increase in amplitude until it becomes a circle.

This principle of concentration appears in organic Nature in the
physiological division of labor, and in the adaptation of every organ
ism to some particular environment which may be to it its field and
kingdom. Analogy would lead us to suppose that the different duties
of the brain are performed by special parts. So directly profitable
has the division of labor been found in manufacturing industry, that
in many cases it has been pushed to an injurious extreme, for a man
is stunted in development when all his powers of mind and body but
one remain unexercised. Specialists in art and science discover that
their highest excellence can only come with a comprehension of wide
principles and study in many various fields.

So far irom concentration being invariably useful, diffusion may
be a process incident to progress. A lump is soonest leavened by
leaven distributed throughout it, crystallization proceeds more swiftly
from separate nuclei than from a concrete mass.- Analogously, the
best, wisest, and most talented men of a people exert a larger influ
ence when scattered through it than if gathered into an over-central
ized capital, where they radiate chiefly on each other.

In the laws which have been considered thus briefly, it has ap
peared that their tendencies are continually progressive ; that, while
the capital of evolution is being increased, so also is the rate of com
pound interest by which it accumulates. It is now fitting that some
of the causes should be noticed which reduce these tendencies from
their theoretical power to the moderate activity we find them really
presenting.

A minor and unfavorable sort of natural selection is that made by
animals not carnivorous when they have a choice of food; they take
the best to be had, and leave the rest to propagate its kind. This
residue may be very bad indeed, when the total supply is scanty ; in
crowded pastures the grazing herds only permit the worst parts of the
clover to come to seed, and squirrels always first eat the best nuts
stored in their hiding-places, and any surplus that might germinate
and grow is commonly of a very poor kind. The acquisition of new
powers by an animal is usually accompanied by a gradual and injuri
ous loss of its original ones; neither the omnivorous hog nor the higher
primates can number readiness in swimming among their resources,
although their inferior ancestry doubtless could. The introduction of
machinery is steadily causing us to lose the deftness and dexterity of
the old, unaided handicrafts, yet never so much as now were knack and
skill of value, for they are indispensable to the designer and inventor in,
their work. A highly-cultivated citizen of New York, when he pene-

VOL. IX. 14

210 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

trates the wilds of the far West, must have an Indian to guide him
through prairie and forest, for the red-man s perceptions of the phe
nomena around him remain keen and almost intuitive.

Modern arts vastly outnumber ancient ones, yet do not include
them all ; antiquity possessed many, either lost by neglect or by being
secret with individuals and perishing with them, or perhaps in the ex
tirpation of small, highly-gifted communities by overwhelming bar
barous hordes.

The vast preponderance of mediocrity over exalted talent has al
ways limited the influence of intellectual greatness, and at times even
perverted it to confirm the low standard of a community s intelligence
instead of raising it. A key in metaphor is always something unlock
ing or unfolding the hidden this refers to but half the business of a
key it is also used to bind, lock up, and secrete. History furnishes
many examples of an unusual might of mind permitted, by the lack of
appreciation for its best work, not only to leave it undone, but induced
to acquire power by mystifying difficulties instead of resolving them,
and so to retard progress by an exertion of the very capacity that
might assist it.

The individuals of a community rise pretty much together, and the
voice of circumstances is not so loudly " Be your best," as " Be fit."
The limit to the practical value of greatness becomes plain if we imag
ine Kepler, while making a scientific journey, to be suddenly surround
ed by hostile Sioux. We can believe that the world may not know
some of its greatest sons, for greatness is known only when allied with
the talents of publicity and the circumstances of appreciation.

Truths and suggestions beyond the comprehension of hearers have
doubtless often been uttered in vain. Our guides in the path of
knowledge must keep within easy distance if they are to be useful.
Huyghens, the great Dutch philosopher, clearly propounded the wave-
theory of light, but it remained unnoticed in his times, to be redis
covered a century afterward, when the minds of scientific men had
been prepared to receive it.

Then, again, the very intensity of appreciation bestowed upon
genius may be hurtful, in the diversion of men of some original power
from the development of themselves into the army of mere repeaters,
imitators, and quoters. Besides, when the leaders of thought and in
vestigation have erred, as at times they inevitably must, the mistaken
opinion from the weight of a great name becomes a clog and a barrier.
Newton s emission-theory of light delayed the true explanation through
many weary years; and zoology is still suffering from the belief in
catastrophes entertained in the mighty brain of Cuvier. And, further,
physiologically, the antagonism of growth and reproduction has left
the chiefs of men either childless, as Kant, or continued in a puny
.race, as Cromwell. Talent is hereditary, but genius scarcely.

Progress is also thwarted by the sub-evolution of evil. In human

EXPERIMENTS ON HYPNOTISM. 211

societies, as mutual trust and confidence advance, they are liable to
be rudely checked from time to time as the rewards of the liar and
thief temptingly increase. The very perfection of mechanical appli
ances is used by the burglar and counterfeiter, and only a high de
gree of educated ingenuity and a world-wide mercantile good faith
could have made such a fiend as Thomassen possible. The invention
of new machinery, the manufacture of new chemicals, the extensions
of mining, and the commingling of increased travel, in their accidents
and sometimes in their baneful results in common pursuit, render the
tasks of physician and surgeon more difficult than ever before. The
complications of modern life are so great and varied, that the moral
laws do not possess the direct and simple force they had of old ; in the
surge and vortex of to-day it takes a keen intellect to separate right
from wrong, and many err because their consciences are not reenforced
by education for the new exigencies.

Evolution is underlaid, as is all change, by the greater law of the
persistence of force, ever holding the even balance through all com
plexity, maintaining throughout all a just compensation. Every new
faculty and enjoyment is earned by its equivalent of work, trouble,
or ill ; with every addition to power comes an addition to wants, to
labor, and the possibilities of pain. As the stores of the mind increase
so also do ideals craving satisfaction become higher and wider: ever
" on the isthmus of a middle state," man is at once a record of the
past and a prophecy of the future ; limited by his inheritance to defi
nite acquirement, he yet aspires, by nascent impulses, for such better
things as only his posterity can ever possess.

EXPEKIMENTS ON HYPNOTISM.

BY FRANKLIN CHASE CLARKE, M. D.

OME time ago my attention was called to two articles on " Hyp
notism in Animals," in the columns of THE POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY, in which I became very deeply interested.

For the sake of those who may have forgotten what the author,
Prof. Czermak, said in regard to these very curious phenomena as
observed in fowls, I will briefly describe his mode of proceeding, and
afterward give.the results of my own experiments.

And, first, of the crawfish experiment. If a crawfish is held firmly
in one hand, while with the other " passes " are made along the back
of the animal from head to lower extremity, the animal will become
so quieted as to allow itself to be placed in any position whatever, even
the most unnatural, without once stirring. Among people generally
1 September and November, 1873.

212 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

this has been called " mesmerism " or " magnetism." Prof. Czermak
proved that neither magnetism nor mesmerism is active in the pro
duction of this phenomenon.

This case is simple enough, that of the fowls is more complex. It
has been thought that if "a chalk-line" were drawn the length of a
hen s beak, or from eye to eye across the beak, while held upon a flat
surface, she would remain perfectly quiet for more or less time when
the hands were removed. I think this is commonly believed in our
own country. Here, the chalk-line seemed intimately connected with
the phenomenon.

Kircher varied the experiment by erasing the chalk-line. He also
tied a ribbon around the legs of the fowl, and then removed it ; and
the hen still remained quiet. According to him the imagination of
the fowl plays an important part; and he laid great stress on the
acts of " tying " and " chalking."

Prof. Czermak does not attach much importance to Kircher s con
clusions, in his first lecture. But, in his second, he seems to believe
that the " tying and chalking " exert some slight influence through
the imagination. He relies mainly, however, on the " stretching
out " of the fowl s neck. Pigeons gave him more trouble in this re
spect ; and this caused him to modify his theory to some extent. He
agreed, however, that after a hen had once been subjected to this
neck-stretching process, she could be caught and placed upon the floor
or any other surface, without being again subjected to it ; that is, hold
her firmly until all struggling has ceased, and she can be placed in
almost any position without once touching the neck. Here Prof.
Czermak stops, and from this point my own experiments begin.

I first repeated many of his experiments on fowls, without using
chalk and string, and with as successful results. Afterward I varied
the mode of experimenting. Hens, ducks, cats, and canary-birds, have
thus all succumbed to this peculiar procedure at my hands, and in
every instance without my subjecting them once to " neck-stretching,"
except, of course, when I was repeating his experiments.

My first experiments, since repeated, were made upon some pet ca
nary-birds when I was quite a child, and knew nothing of this phe
nomenon. I had three of these little birds, one male and two females.
These I would often remove from their cage, hold them in my hand un
til they became quiet, and then place them upon the floor. In this
way I would often have all three lying out upon the floor perfectly
motionless. As to whether their eyes remained closec^ or not I have
no recollection. The male was very wild, and, if not watched care
fully, would fly from the floor.

This experiment I have since practised on a canary, and obtained
the same results as I did when I first noticed the peculiarity. Here
let me say again that I never touched the head or the neck of the
bird.

EXPERIMENTS ON HYPNOTISM. 213

When quite a lad, and residing in a Western State, I often observed
the farmers brought their poultry alive to market, preventing the
escape of the fowls by tying their legs together. The fowls, whenever
I saw them, were always quiet.

Prof. Czermak thought that the stretching out of the neck of the
fowl caused, in some manner, a " slight mechanical extension of cer
tain parts of the brain, .... apart from the fear which the animal
experiences," etc. 1

Now, since my last experiments I dispensed entirely with all
" neck-stretching." Prof. Czermak s explanations do not tend to throw
that light upon the subject which he believed they would; and we
must look to Kircher for a fuller explanation of this phenomenon that
of the power of the imagination.

Those parts, then, which it has been said were necessary to touch
for the success of the experiment, I have latterly entirely let alone.

I usually, after catching my fowl, hold it firmly upon the ground,
floor, etc., as the case may be, until all struggling has ceased. Then
I remove my hands, making no " passes," nor any more movements
than are necessary to take them away from the animal. Now I have
the fowl stretched out before me motionless, and breathing deeply ;
the eyes are generally open. Some hens are more easily subjected to
this experiment than others. Tame hens will allow much handling,
and are hence never good subjects. A very wild fowl is an excellent
animal upon which to make these experiments.

As in the cases instanced by Prof. Czermak, so I find different
fowls must be differently treated. Some require to be held a shorter,
some a longer time, than others. But this fact is evident, that the
animal must be held firmly until perfectly quiet.

It was only the other day, while writing the abote, I visited a
neighbor s poultry-yard to verify still further my views upon this sub
ject. After catching a huge Brahma cock, which I had great diffi
culty in holding, as he was very violent, I held him fast until he as
well as I knew he could not escape, and then took away my hands,
lay just as quiet as though my hands were holding him. But his
eyes were open and his head was somewhat raised from the ground.
In this condition I placed him in his coop, where he remained in a
most awkward position upon his side until a hen came along, and
seemed to assure him of his liberty.

Thinking that the " stretching out of the neck and bill had simply
the effect of closing the animal s eyes, I held a duck firmly in one hand,
and with the other threw my handkerchief over its head. The same
phenomena resulted, but they were of shorter duration. I next treat
a little bantam pullet in the same way ; but, being a tame and gentl*
little creature, I could do almost anything with her. One singula
feature was that, while upon her back, and the handkerchief over h
1 Vide POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY, loc, cit.

214 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

head, she began to sing. She remained very quiet, but only for a
short time.

A gentleman told me of a somewhat similar process he employed
in the West, when he had entrapped in the same box several prairie
chickens. It being difficult for him to hold more than one chicken at
a time, he would take one from the trap, hold it until quiet, shake it a
little, and then lay it upon the snow. Sometimes he would have two
or three thus lying there with their eyes closed. They would remain
in this condition long enough for him to secure the whole catch. But,
if one chanced to open its eyes when he was not looking, it would
most certainly escape.

The explanation of all this does not seem difficult. In fact, we
do not feel obliged to bring forward mesmerism, magnetism, nor even
hypnotism, as having anything to do with the phenomena. They
result simply from fear, as any one may easily prove for himself: the
animal appreciates the power acting on it, and the uselessness of
resisting the injury or the supposed injury inflicted. Here, of course,
we must allow animals a certain amount of intelligence for such per
ceptions. After the animal has made resistance, and finds itself inca
pable of removing the obstacle, it lapses into quietude, to act again
only when it supposes the restraint has been removed.

Hence, Kircher, apart from his "ribbons" and "chalk-lines," or
" remembrance of chalk-lines and ribbons," is not so far out of the way
in believing these phenomena to be due to the power of the animal s
imagination. The same thing, under certain circumstances, is ob
served in man, and every one must be aware of the power the imagi
nation often possesses over him.

In the " charming " of the lower animals by serpents we notice
similar phenomena. The so-called "charmed animal" cannot move,
from the fact that it does not believe it can. It has no power of will
to put into operation those muscles necessary to carry it from danger.
In other words, it is paralyzed with fear.

The cat playing with the mouse still further illustrates the same
principle. The mouse knows he cannot escape, for, at every attempt
to move, pussy s paw is put gently upon him, and he is pulled back
within her reach. Hence, after a while the mouse does not move at
all unless pussy " stirs him up," so to speak, with her paw.

Hence we cannot see anything very wonderful, after all, in these
phenomena : they depend wholly and only upon fear, and are but an
illustration of the power of the imagination among animals, and add to
the evidence daily accumulating of the possession by the lower ani
mals of a certain amount of intelligence.

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 215

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA.

BY H. CHAELTON BASTIAN, M. D., F. E. S.

HEAT and light are physical influences to which even the lowest
units of living matter respond, whether their mode of lite and
nutrition is most akin to that of plants or to that of animals. These
influences act on such organisms, either by stimulating, retarding, or
otherwise modifying the chemical changes naturally occurring in
their interior, and upon the existence of which their life depends.
Where the vital processes of the organism are stimulated by these
physical agencies, their incidence may, in many instances, become the
cause of so-called " spontaneous movements." The term, however,
as applied to movements, is a bad one since all the movements oi
an organism are alike dependent upon a series of antecedent states of
contractile and other tissues. There is some sort of foundation, it is
true, for the popular mode of expression. A movement is not said to
be " spontaneous " if it follows immediately upon some external im
pression as a cause ; the term is generally applied where the cause of
the movement is not distinctly recognizable. In some instances the
undetected or unconsidered external cause may be the incidence of a
diffused physical agent such as heat, which, by stimulating the vital
processes, seems to give rise to spontaneous movements. In other
cases so-called " spontaneous " movements are to be referred to inter
nal states or changes, whose origin is even less distinctly traceable,
to impressions, it may be, which emanate from some of the internal
organs, and thence are transmitted to ganglia in direct relation with
some of the organs of locomotion.

Heat mostly acts on organisms upon all sides alike, so that,
though it may stimulate their life-processes generally, and, in some
instances, give rise to movements, these movements are not deter
mined in one, more than in another, direction. Thus, while heat
stimulates the " to-and-fro " or the gyratory movements of bacteria,
and also renders more striking and rapid those changes of form which
all amoeboid organisms are apt to display, the movements evoked are
random, and apparently devoid of all purpose.

It is not altogether similar, however, with the influence of light.
This agent almost always, and necessarily, falls more on one side than
on another ; and consequently it often suffices to induce movements
to be made in definite directions, by the lower forms of life, just as it
causes definite and responsive movements to be executed by certain
parts of higher plants, which come fully under its influence. In each
case the movement, or altered position, is due to some nutritive
change ; that is, to some alteration, whatever its nature, in the ac
tivity of the life-processes taking place in the part impressed by the

216 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

light. So that, whether we have to do with the movement of a sun
flower, or with the locomotions of minute living units, the essential
mode of production of the movement is probably similar. Of the
actual locomotions of minute living units under the influence of light
many instances might be cited ; it will suffice, however, to mention
the fact that any green zoospores which may have been uniformly
diffused through the water are very apt, when the vessel containing
them is placed near a window, to collect on the surface of the water
at the part where most light falls upon them. Minute animal or
ganisms are, however, often affected quite differently by this agent.
They are frequently caused to move away from, rather than toward,
its source ; so that the creatures thus impressed " seek " the shade
rather than the glare of sunlight.

The action of such influences and the production of such move
ments form the beginnings or substrata, as it were, of other phe
nomena with which we are now more particularly concerned. The
unilateral influence of light and the movements to or from its source
to which it may give rise afford a connecting link between diffused
causes like heat, which, by affecting the general activity of the vital
processes in the organisms, may lead to purely random movements,
and those more localized influences now to be considered, to which
the various definite or responsive movements of organisms are attrib
utable.

The first, because it is the simplest, of these localized influences to
be considered is a shock or mechanical impact of some kind, falling
upon the external surface of the organism. This is the primordial
or most general of all the modes by which the surface of an organism
is impressible, and its sensitivity to such stimuli is both in the stage
of impression and the stage of reaction closely akin to the general
organic irritability of protoplasm which, indeed, unquestionably
constitutes its starting-point. This mode of impression, moreover, is
one which tends to establish a correspondence between the organism
and the most common events or properties of the medium in which
it lives and moves. It is consequently the mode of impressibility
most extensively called into play among all the lower forms of
animal life. And although the whole surface of an organism, or the
greater part of it, in one of the simple animals to which we are refer
ring, may be more or less impressible to shocks or impacts from con
tact with surrounding bodies, it often happens that such impressions
more frequently fall upon, and are more readily received by, certain
appendages situated at the anterior extremity of the animal, in close
proximity to the mouth. Such specialized parts or tactile appendages
are known as papillae, setae, tentacles, antennae, or palpi, according to
the forms which they assume in different animals.

Why such organs are developed so frequently at the anterior
extremity of the animal, and in the neighborhood of the mouth rather

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 2 i 7

than on other parts of the body, is not difficult to explain. What
ever the mode by which they are evoked or called into being (and
the most opposite views may be entertained upon this subject), it
seems obvious that, if organs of this kind are to be present at all, they
should occur in situations where they might be put to most use. In
an animal accustomed to active locomotions, the mouth is, with only
a very few exceptions, situated on that part of the body which is
habitually directed forward. The anterior extremity thus comes to
be the part of the body which is brought most into converse with its
environment; and, of the diverse objects impinging against it, or
against which it impinges, some are of a nature to serve the organism
as food, and some are not. A higher degree of impressibility springs
up, therefore, in this situation, where the parts are necessarily exercised
so largely with impressions corresponding with food and with others
having an opposite relation. It should not surprise us, therefore, to
find among the lower animals that the most specialized tactile or
gans are found in the immediate neighborhood of the mouth. Such
organs may be, and are in fact, not unfrequently both tactile and pre
hensile ; though this is more especially the case in sedentary forms of
life, like the hydra, the sea-anemone, or some of the tentaculated
worms. The tentaculse of the latter animals would seem to be pos
sessed of an extremely high degree of impressibility, if we are to
judge by the report of one who devoted much attention to the study
of this class of organisms the late Dr. Williams, of Swansea. He
says: "It is not easy, for those who have never enjoyed the spectacle
of the feat of touch performed by the tentaculated worms, to esti
mate adequately the extreme acuteness of the sensibility which re
sides at the extremities of the living threads with which the head and
sides of the body are garnished. They select, reject, move toward,
and recede from, minute external objects with all the precision of
microscopic animals gifted with the surest eagle-sight."

But it often happens that the solid bodies serving as food are in a
measure soluble, so that, in animal organisms comparatively low in the
scale of complexity, some of the tactile structures within or around
the mouth may undergo a further specialization by which they become
able to discriminate and respond to impressions of a slightly different
nature. These parts become sensitive to a more relined kind of con
tact, such as may be yielded by certain dissolved elements of the food
substance, whose local action may be attended by some slight chemi
cal change in the tissue of the organ. Impressions are thus produced
whereby the " sapidity " or flavor of bodies is appreciated, and such
impressions gradually become associated with definite related move
ments.

No distinct organ of " taste " or specialized gustatory surface is
known to occur among invertebrate animals, except in insects and in
such higher mollusca as gasteropods and cephalopods ; although such

218 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a mode of impressibility does, doubtless, exist in many other of the
lower forms of life. Impressions of the two orders already referred to
more or less distinct from one another are those by which alone
multitudes of the lowest forms of animal life, such as polyps, medusa)
and various kinds of worms, appear to hold converse with the outside
world. Touches and tastes are the names which we apply to the sub
jective effects of such impressions ; and, though it is impossible at
present wholly to ignore this point of view, or to use language which
is not colored by it, I do not now wish to say anything with regard
to the nature or intensity of the feelings that may be associated with
corresponding impressions in the lower animals. The reader must for
the present look rather to the objective effects of these impressions, and
in so doing he will learn that these become organically associated with
a nervous mechanism by whose intermediation they are able to evoke
distinctive movements of a responsive nature.

Seeing, however, that tactile and gustatory impressions can only
be made by actual contact of external bodies with the specialized
parts of an organism, such impressions are not of a kind to excite
movements in quest of food ; although they may lead to correlated
movements of parts adjacent to those which. are touched, as when all
the tentacles of a sea-anemone close round a body that has come into
contact with some one of them. This effect is due to a radiation of
the primitive stimulus, and we may see in such a set of actions only
a more rapid and slightly more complex result than is known to fol
low the irritation of one of the peripheral tentacles on the leaf of a
sun-dew. In the latter case the bending of the tentacle actually irri
tated is slowly followed by the bending of others under the influence
of an internally diffused stimulus.

Movements in actual quest of food may, however, be excited in
other animal organisms by impressions which suffice to bring them
into relation with more or less distant bodies. The way is paved for
this result when some portion of the anterior and upper surface of the
animal, in which aggregations of pigment occur, becomes more than
usually sensitive to light. A dark body passing in front of such a re
gion gives rise to certain molecular changes therein, and these molec
ular changes differing among themselves become capable of exciting
distinctive impressions in the organism which it gradually becomes
attuned to discriminate. The power of discrimination in this, as in
all other cases, is indicated by the organism s capability of responding
to impressions by definite muscular movements as when the oyster,
with the valves of its shell apart, instantly closes them if a shadow is
projected over certain sensitive pigment-specks or so-called "eyes"
at the edge of its mantle.

This beginning of visual impressions truly enough shows itself as a
merely exalted appreciation of tactile impressions ; and, inasmuch as
such an appreciation of the presence of near bodies would in so many

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 2 i 9

instances be quickly followed by a more gross mechanical contact, the
rudimentary visual impression is, as Spencer says, a kind of " antici
patory touch." From this simple beginning, in which bodies only
slightly separated from the impressible foci excite certain general or
only vaguely specialized impressions corresponding to light and shade
therein, the organs of sight and their impressibility gradually become
more and more elaborate. To rudimentary aggregations of pigment
transparent media are added, which condense the light on these im
pressible patches, and these media in other organisms are sufficiently
like a lens to be adequate to form a definite image of an external body
on the layer of pigment, which, on its other side, is in contact with
a nerve-expansion communicating with a contiguous ganglion. Nu
merous simple structures of this kind may exist apart from one another,
as in many bivalve mollusks, or they may be far more numerous arid
closely aggregated so as to form such compound eyes as are met with
in crustaceans and in insects. Or individual ocelli may be perfected,
as in spiders, or lower Crustacea, though most notably of all among
the cuttle-fish tribe in which two movable eyes are met with, whose
organization is just as perfect as that of the eyes of fishes.

The difference in degree and range of sensitiveness existing be
tween the simple " eye-specks " of some of the lower worms and the
elaborate organs existing in the highest insects and mollusks is enor
mous. The range and keenness of vision become progressively ex
tended, so that creatures with more perfect eyes are capable of receiv
ing and appreciating impressions from objects more and more distant,
and the various actions which become established in response to im
pressions habitually made upon such sensitive surfaces increase enor
mously in number, variety, and complexity. The relation existing
between the keenness of the sense of sight and the powers of locomo
tion of insects has long been recognized by naturalists. Prof. Owen,
for instance, thus alludes to it : "The high degree in which the power
of discerning distant objects is enjoyed by the flying insects corre
sponds with their great power of traversing space. The few excep
tional cases of blind insects are all apterous, and often peculiar to
the female sex, as in the glow-worm, cochineal-insect, and parasitic
stylops."

The various actions of insects and of invertebrate animals gener
ally are, however, found to be easily capable of classification. They
are, in the main, subservient to the pursuit and capture of prey, to
the avoidance of enemies, to the union of the sexes, or to the care of
their young. To such ends are their various motions, whether occa
sional or habitual, more or less directly related. Nothing is here said,
however, as to the extent to which such ends are realized by the ani
mals themselves.

In vision, as I have said, we have to do with a refinement of the
sense of touch, whereby the animal becomes sensible of impressions

220 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

produced by " waves " of light emanating from a distance, and is thus
brought into mediate contact with certain distant objects. A re
finement of the organs of taste may also occur whereby bodies possess
ing sapid qualities are capable of impressing organisms still at a dis
tance. Just as vision, in fact, is, in its most elementary phases, a sort
of " anticipatory touch," so is smell a kind of anticipatory taste. Yet
the two cases are not altogether similar. In vision, the contact if it
may be so termed with the distant body is mediate, through the in
tervention of ethereal undulations ; while in smell we have to do with
a case of immediate contact, not with the distant body itself of course,
but with extremely minute particles which it gives off on all sides.
An " emission " theory serves to explain the diffusion of odors, though
it will not hold for the diffusion of light. From what I have said it
may be inferred that, as regards the delicacy of their respective physi
cal causes, the sense of smell occupies an intermediate position between
taste and sight.

It is regarded as a matter of certainty by naturalists that such
creatures as spiders, Crustacea, insects, and the higher mollusks, are
capable of being impressed in some way by odors, and that their
actions are to a certain extent regulated by such impressions. We
have, however, no definite knowledge concerning the parts of the sur
face which in these, and perhaps in still lower organisms, are attuned
to receive such influences. Although a rudimentary sense of smell
seems unquestionably to be possessed by such aquatic forms of the
invertebrata as Crustacea and the higher mollusks, it is, perhaps, a
sense-endowment which generally exists in a more developed and
more varied form among air-breathing animals. In whatever forms
of life it may be met with, however, the sense of smell seems to be very
largely indeed related to the detection and capture of food ; so, that,
in these relations, it comes to the aid of the already-existing senses of
sight, touch, and taste, though it has the peculiarity of being scarcely
otherwise called into activity among the invertebrata.

Although we have no positive knowledge concerning the situation
of the organs of smell among invertebrate animals, there is good reason
for believing that in Crustacea they are to be found at the base of the
antennules; that in cephalopods they are represented by two little
fossaB in the neighborhood of the eyes ; and that in insects a power of
appreciating odors is possibly possessed either by the antennae them
selves, or by a pair of fossre near their bases. Another cephalic organ
has also been referred to as possibly endowed with a power of being
impressed by odors. Thus Owen says : "The application, by the com
mon house-fly, of the sheath of its proboscis to particles of solid or
liquid food, before it imbibes them, is an action closely analogous to
the scenting of food by the nose in higher animals ; and, as it is by the
odorous qualities, much more than by the form of the surface, that we
judge of the fitness of substances for food, it is more reasonable to

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 221

conclude that, in this well-known action of our commonest insect, it is
scenting, not feeling, the drop of milk or grain of sugar."

Looking to the importance of this endowment in reference to the
perception of food, and also looking to the situation of the organs of
smell in all the vertebrate animals, there is good reason for believing
that any similar organs of sense which may exist among invertebrate
organisms would be found in close proximity to the mouth, so as to
permit of that joint or associated activity between the sense of taste
and the sense of smell which is met with in all higher forms of life.

As already pointed out, there are also obvious reasons why the
principal specialized tactile organs that may present themselves in
lower animals should be found in the neighborhood of the mouth ;
and for similar reasons, if for no other, the anterior extremity of the
body, or the upper surface near this anterior extremity, is the site in
which visual organs might be used with most advantage by their
possessor. To an active animal, visual organs would not only be more
useful at the anterior extremity of the body than elsewhere in relation
to its food-taking movements, but also in reference to all other uses
to which such appendages may be applied during active locomotions
from place to place. To this situation of the eyes only two or three
exceptions are met with among animals endowed with powers of loco
motion, and these deviations are explicable by reference to the habits
and modes of life of the organisms in question. 1

The part of the body bearing the mouth, and the various sensory
organs already named, is familiar to all as the " head " of the animal ;
and it is owing to the fact of the clustering of sense-organs on this
part of the body that the head contains internally a number of nerve-
ganglia in connection therewith. This aggregate mass of ganglia
constitutes the brain of the invertebrate animals, which, as we shall
find, differs much in different classes of animals, not only in disposition
and in size, but also in respect to the relative pi*oportion of its com
ponent parts. The size of the respective ganglia, indeed, necessarily
varies in accordance with the relative importance and complexity of
the several sense- endowments already mentioned those of touch,
taste, smell, and vision. The ganglia thus constituting the brain of
invertebrate animals are not only connected with their own particular
external organs, but, in addition, we find the several ganglia of the
two sides brought into relation among themselves and with their fel-

1 In some spiders the ocelli are situated rather far back on each side of the cephalo-
thorax, but, as Siebold says : " The disposition and the direction of the organs are in
relation with the mode of life of these animals, some of which wait for their prey hidden
in chinks of a wall within silken tubes which they have constructed, while others hold
themselves motionless in the centre of their webs, or wander from side to side, a mode of
life which obliges them to look in all directions " (" Manuel d Anatomic comparative,"
tome i., p. 308). According to Prof. Rolleston also in the crustacean genera Euphausia,
and Thysanopoda : " Eyes may be, contrary to the otherwise invariable rule in Arthro-
poda, found elsewhere than upon the head" (" Forms of Animal Life," p. cxxi.).

222 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lows by means of connecting fibres, while they are also more distantly
united with other nerve-ganglia in different parts of the body by means
of commissural fibres.

But another special sense-endowment remains to be referred to.
This has to do with the organism s power of appreciating sounds or
" auditory " expressions a power which is, however, probably pos
sessed in only a low degree by most invertebrate animals ; since, even
in the most perfect form of the organ of hearing among them we
have to do with a very rudimentary structure. In this respect there
is a great difference between the sense of sight and the sense of hear
ing. While the eye of the cuttle-fish attains a degree of elaboration
that does not fall so very far short of the most perfect form which it
displays among vertebrate animals, the organ of hearing, as a mere
organ, in all forms of the invertebrata is remarkable for its simplicity,
and remains notably inferior to the highest type attained by this sen-
sorial apparatus which, with its nerve-connections, becomes so enor
mously developed in many mammals and in man.

Like the sense of sight and the sense of smell, that of hearing, even
in its simplest grades, serves to bring the organism into relation with
more or less distant bodies, so long as they are sufficiently sonorous-
to transmit the so-called " sound " vibrations through water or air to
the sensitive organs which become attuned to receive such impres
sions.

An auditory organ does not seem to be present at all certainly
none has as yet been detected or inferred to exist in many of the low
er forms of life ; while in other animals, though inferred to exist, it
remains as yet unrecognized. This is the case, for instance, with the
majority of Crustacea, spiders, and insects. Judging from the instances
in which an organ of hearing has been detected in mollusks, and in a
very few representatives of the classes above named, it seems (however
novel the information may be to many readers) that it is an organ of
special sense which is not habitually, or even usually, found in the
head, and in direct relation with one of the ganglia composing the
brain. Further remarks, however, on this subject must be deferred
until a brief description has been given of the nature and distribution
of the nervous system in some of the principal groups of invertebrate
animals.

These, then, are the commonly-received modes by which organisms
are impressed from without, and by which they attune themselves to
the conditions and actions in their medium. It was recognized by
Democritus, and other ancient writers, that they are all of them deriv
atives, or more specialized modes of a primordial common sensibility,
such as is possessed by the entire outer surface of the organism. Touch,
taste, smell, vision, and hearing, are sense-endowments, having their
origin in organs formed by a gradual differentiation of certain portions
of the external or surface layer of the body that is, of the part in

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 223

which common sensibility is most frequently called into play. And
just as this common sensibility is a crude or general sense of touch, so
are the several special senses only more or less highly-refined modes of
the same sense-endowment. In the case of special tactile organs, of
organs of taste and organs of smell, the several contacts between the
animal and the body which impresses it, though differing in their deli
cacy or refinement, are still immediate ; while in the case of the or
gans of hearing and the organs of vision the contact between the sensi
tive surfaces and the impressing body is mediate, by the intervention
in the one case of vibrations transmitted through water or air, and,
in the other, of vibrations from the often far-distant luminous body,
through an intermediate and all-pervading ether.

The movements of locomotion, or of parts of the organism which
become established in correspondence with these various impressions,
slowly increase in number, definiteness, and complexity. Such re
sponsive movements, however, are found, as a general rule, to have
the effect of prolonging the action of any influences which previous
individual or race experiences have proved to be favorable to the life
and well-being of the organism ; and, on the other hand, of cutting
short or avoiding influences which past individual or race experiences
have proved to be contrary to its general well-being. The capture
and swallowing of food are ends to which a very large proportion
indeed of the definite motions of most of the lower organisms are
directed ; and this direction of their energies is only a special case to
be included under the rule above indicated; just as efforts to escape
from predatory neighbors are other, though opposite, instances of the
same rule.

In addition to the various modes of impressibility by external in
fluence which we have hitherto been considering, there are certain
internal modes of impressibility due to changes in the condition of
internal parts of the organism. These are commonly spoken of as
divisible into two categories : 1. The impressions derivable from, or
in some way attendant upon, the contractions of muscles; and, 2. Im
pressions emanating from one or other of the various sets of internal
organs, such as the alimentary canal and its appendages, the respira
tory organs, the genital organs, or other internal parts.

With the first set of impressions we have at present nothing to do.
They differ altogether from others, whether of external or internal
origin, by the fact that they follow or accompany movements whose
intensity they are supposed to measure, and do not themselves lead
to movements. Granting that such impressions may have a real
existence, it is obvious we can know nothing about them among
invertebrate animals, if they have only a subjective existence, and do
not cause an efflux of molecular movements along outgoing nerve-
fibres.

The second category of internal impressions those emanating

224 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

from the viscera are undoubtedly very important in relation to ani
mal life generally. In part they have the effect of causing contrac
tions of related muscular portions of the viscera as when the presence
of food in certain portions of the alimentary canal excites impressions,
followed by contraction whereby the food is propelled farther on.
In part, however, they act upon the principal nerve-ganglia those
constituting the brain and thus excite the external sense-organs
with which they are connected to a higher order of activity. Visceral
impressions may cause an animal eagerly to pursue food, or to be alert
in discovering its mate ; so that in these, and in many other instances,
internal impressions, reaching the cerebral ganglia, would seem to
excite a higher receptivity to certain kinds of external impressions
and a corresponding readiness to respond on the part of the moving
organs whose activity is related to such external impressions.

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS.

BY DAVID BOYD, A. M.

"TTNDER the above heading may be comprehended the most of
^J what we are desirous of saying in review of the article entitled
" Science and Religion," by Dr. Charles F. Deems, in THE POPULAR
SCIENCE MONTHLY for February.

We first run counter to the author upon the definition of science
taken from Sir William Hamilton s " Logic." Says he : " We can all
afford to agree upon the definition rendered by the only man who has
been found in twenty-two centuries to add anything important to the
imperial science of logic. Sir William Hamilton defines science as a
complement of cognitions having in point of form the character of
logical perfection, in point of matter the character of real truth."

In the first place, Hamilton is not the only man since Aristotle
that has been found to add anything important to logic. There has
been a whole department, and by far the most valuable department
of that science, brought into existence during the last three hundred
years. We have reference to inductive logic, or scientific method.
Hamilton had nothing to do with the creation of this department.
His additions are wholly confined to the barren field of formal logic.
The other department is the result of the joint labors of Bacon, Gali
leo, Newton, Herschel (John), Mill, Bain, and Jevons.

Hamilton s additions to formal logic consist chiefly in what is
known as the quantification of the predicate, and the moods and
figures consequent upon this. There is much difference of opinion as
to the value of these additions. Mill and Bain affirm that by the
quantification of the predicate no new ordistinct meaning is conveyed,

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS. 22 $

nor is there even a more intelligent rendering of an old meaning. In
our own opinion the distinction between the comprehension and the
extension of propositions is important ; but it is paraded with too
much ostentation, and treated with too much prolixity. Hamilton s
great virtue is his clearness of statement and exhaustiveness of treat
ment. His method is admirable. Sometimes, however, there is too
much display of his own erudition.

But even in the domain of formal logic Hamilton is not the only
one that has within the present century made important additions.
Prominent among these is De Morgan. Especially valuable are his
discussions upon the different values of the logical copula. Prof.
Boole has also made important additions to the syllogism, and has
most ably supported the theory of the -common ground occupied by
logic and the mathematics. Prof. Bam also, in pure logic, has made
a most important generalization. Hamilton s three laws of thought,
namely, identity, noncontradiction, and excluded middle, he has re
duced to the single law or canon of consistency.

So much for the assertion that Hamilton was the only man in
twenty-two centuries to- make any important additions to the imperial
science of logic. Like enough the doctor would exclude scientilic
method from the imperial science. Perhaps he regards formal logic
alone fit to wear the purple. But even here we see that there can be
no such claim set up. If, however, he could claim this distinction, it
would afford no reason for receiving his definition of science without
question. That should stand or fall wholly upon its own merits.
The greatest of men are not without personal biases. It is well known
that Hamilton had a metaphysical bias. In his work on metaphysics
the first three lectures are occupied in attempting to prove the supe
riority of mental science over natural science. He quotes with much
approval this ancient declaration, " On earth there is nothing great
but man, in man there is nothing great but mind." This being his
known bias, before examining the definition, an investigator of Na
ture, a believer in scientific method, might have thought that it
was by no means certain that he " could afford " to take it simply
on his authority. However, when we come to the definition itself,
the matter of it is well enough. But we have the temerity to suggest
that its form might be improved without changing the substance. It
is too pedantic and prolix. It is not in a shape easily to be remem
bered. We would render it thus : Science is real knowledge logically
classified. But, as Bain remarks, positive definition is not thorough
enough. As he says in his second canon on definition, it is needful
to assemble for comparison the particulars of the contrasting or op
posed notion. We can never know distinctly what a notion is until
we contrast it with its opposite. Knowing is discriminating. What
is not science ? What is the other notion that lies side by side with
it in contrast, but contained under the same genus ? Now, if we

VOL. IX. 15

226 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

define science simply as knowledge or " complement of cognitions,"
it is contrasted with feeling or emotion. Its correlatives are produc
tions designed to please, such as poetry, painting, or the fine arts
generally.

If religion be regarded as proceeding wholly from the emotional
nature, it may be contrasted with science and classed among aesthetic
conceptions. But narrowing the definition further by qualifying
knowledge by the terms " logically classified," we then have science
as contrasted with or opposed to particular knowledge, or knowledge
imperfectly classified. Qualifying further by placing the word real
before knowledge, we have it contrasted with error or not genuine
knowledge. By reading Hamilton, it will be seen that error is his
antithesis to his real truth in the definition. But hypotheses are not
error, since they are not held as truth. The distinguishing character
of error is that, while false in fact, is is supposed to be true completely.
Hypotheses are neither genuine truth nor errors, so long as they are
held merely as such. They lie upon the border-lands of truth and
error, and Hamilton s definition cannot banish them completely from
the domain of science. They are properly allowed to hover around
its borders. But we totally disagree with Dr. Deems as to the value
of these " guesses " at truth. Says he, " A professor of religion has
just as much right to guess as a professor of science, and the latter
no more right than the former, though he may have more skill."
Now, as to the right, there can be no dispute, but, as to the value of
the guesses, this better skill makes all the difference in the world.
Prof. Huxley is right in his estimate of guesses. Says he, " Do not
allow yourself to be misled by the common notion that an hypothesis
is untrustworthy because it is an hypothesis. What more have we to
guide us in nine-tenths of the most important affairs of daily life than
hypotheses, and often very ill-based ones ? So then in science, where
the evidence of an hypothesis is subjected to the most rigid examina
tion, we may rightly pursue the same course. You may have hypoth
eses and hypotheses. A man may say, if he like, that the moon is
made of green cheese ; that is an hypothesis. But another man, who
has devoted a great deal of time and attention to the subject, and
availed himself of the most powerful telescopes, and the results of the
observations of others, declares that it is probably composed of mate
rials very similar to those of which the earth is made up ; and this
also is an hypothesis." You perceive that it makes a good deal of
difference both as to who guesses and as to what is guessed. Indeed,
so many scientific hypotheses have been verified in the face of the
opposing theological hypotheses, that there begins to be a strong
presumption in their favor before verification. Nor is it strange that
we should be led to regard them as highly probable. The investiga
tor of Nature, familiar with her processes and her laws, founds these
guesses upon broad and deep analogies.

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS. 22 ;

But we have only to follow the reverend doctor a few pages, until
we find that hypotheses, so far from being extra-scientific, wholly
make up our science. He mounts Hamilton s definition for the pur
pose of trampling upon scientific hypotheses. But, in his zeal for nar
rowing the sphere of science, he arrives at the remarkable conclusion
that " all science is purely a classification of probabilities." He has
at length kicked the definition completely from under him, and
remounted a platform entirely composed of hypotheses. He, how
ever, is careful not to say, "It is certain that there are no certainties."
Still he leaves us wholly in the dark as to where may be found
those " very few certainties " which it appears to him God has seen
fit to show us, " more for the purpose of furnishing the idea than for
any practical purpose." The God of the modern divine has still
about him a touch of the jealousy of the Zeus of ^Eschylus. He
would have chained to the rocks the modern seeker after hidden
knowledge, the invader of his own domain of certainties.

We say that we are left completely in the dark as to where are
to be found those few certainties which God has seen fit to show us
as specimens. We are assured that they are not to be found in sci
ence. This is only classified probabilities. The " imperial science of
logic " has been demolished with the rest. We wonder whether it is
because science embraces only real truth that it is uncertain or prob
able, or is it owing to its methodical logical arrangement that it has
acquired this character ? He should remember that most people have
faculties called memories, that last them through several pages of
reading, and that there is a chance for mediate or remote contradic
tions to be detected.

Again, in his zeal to prove that all science and religion stand upon
the common basis of faith, he overleaps himself, and gives us as the
results of his logic, "Ex nihilo geometria fit." So I suppose we may
be allowed to say likewise, " Ex, nihilo religiofit" Is that what he
started out to prove ? No, it was only this very sensible proposition,
that " we can acquire no knowledge by our logical understanding with
out faith in the laws of mental operations." This simply amounts to
saying that we cannot consistently believe in the products of think
ing except we believe in faculties of thinking. We suppose that no
one doubts that. But believing that by no means involves the as
sumption that science or knowledge rests upon the same basis as
religious faith. It is a very different thing to believe in our own
experiences, feelings, sensations, observations, comparisons, memories,
representations, etc., and to believe in certain fundamental religious
dogmas, as, for example, " God is an infinite person." God is three
infinite persons. The second of these three infinite persons, which all
make one infinite person, is now sitting in heaven upon a throne on
the right hand of the first infinite person, neither of which has any
parts, but all three make one indivisible unity. Most men will con-

223 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tinue to think that the above propositions differ very much from the
two fundamental axioms of mathematics," Equals added to equals
and the sums are equal ; and two things each equal to a third are
equal each to each." In denying these, we must deny the laws of
thought, the powers of the mind in distinguishing a thing from what
it is not, or from that which it stands in contrast with, or in opposition
to. All the other axioms of geometry, as Bain has shown, are either
verbal propositions or can be derived from these, since subtraction is
implicated in addition, multiplication derived from addition, and di
vision implicated in multiplication.

The absurd conclusion at which the doctor arrives, namely, " Ex,
nihilo geometria fit" ought to show him that to begin with a meta
physical point was hardly the proper way to build up the science of
geometry. Of course, it being nothing, the geometry that he con
structed out of it, no matter how many intermediate propositions in
tervened, must be nothing. Suppose we try the analytic method of
arriving at definitions. But first we are compelled to controvert
the assertion that it is necessary to believe the three following propo
sitions, or there can be no geometry, namely, that " space is infinite
in extent, that it is infinitely divisible, and that it is infinitely con
tinuous."

Now, I deny that geometry has anything to do with infinity ; in
deed, the doctor, before he gets through, says even more than this.
" Science," says he, " has the finite for its domain, religion the infinite."
What we have to do with in geometry is simply the relations of the
attributes Wpropria of definite extension. But as definite extension
has for its correlative indefinite extension, we need to understand it in
a sort of general way. Experience furnishes us with the mutually-
implicated notions of the contained and the containing, the bounded
and the bounding. We cannot separate them completely in thought.
The assertion of the one implicates the other. What lies without any
extension is space indefinite space. Simply that it is outside of our
particular part of space is all that we have to do with it : whether it
is infinite or not is none of the business of the geometrician. Indefi
nite extension, or the notion of space in general, is very different
from the notion, if there be such a one, the words infinite space would
connote. Indefinite space is comprehensible in the only sense that it
needs to be comprehended, namely, as the correlative of extension or
definite space.

This brings us to the genesis of the definitions of geometry. Ex
perience makes us at first acquainted with extended bodies. This
acquaintance goes no further than a knowledge of their attributes, or
propria. All these properties come into the mind as a confused
aggregate ; it is not clearly perceived as a whole made up of distinct
parts. The relation of part to part is perceived only in a vague and
general manner. The work of the geometrician is to analyze these

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS. 229

parts, and to establish their exact relations. He compares, adds, sub
tracts, multiplies, divides. In order to communicate his knowledge
of the relation of parts, he must use words ; these words he must de
fine, if their meaning is not obvious to the one instructed. But if the
property is of a primary nature, and given in the experience of every
one, there is no need of definition, and indeed no rational definition
can be given. This is true alike of the notions, extension, surface,
line, and point. Each of these is as much a datum of simple experi
ence as the notion of white or blue ; and it is just as absurd to at
tempt to define the one class of concepts as the other. They may be,
however, brought out a little more closely by contrasting the correla
tives in the manner that we have attempted with extension and indefi
nite space. Thus surface may be contrasted with the solid volume,
or definite space, of which it forms the boundary ; line with surface,
of which it in turn is the boundary ; and, lastly, point with line, of
which it is the termination or the where of separation. It is not true
that the existence of forms depends upon the motions of points.
Forms are given in experience through sensation. A point is the
ultimate step in the analysis of boundaries. It is sheer nonsense to
attempt to construct lines out of points, surfaces out of lines, and
volumes out of surfaces. All that it is necessary to say further upon
this subject is, that the differentiae of the higher mathematics are not
nothings, but quantities the least conceivable. The least conceivable
portion of a line is not a point ; the least conceivable portion of a
surface is not a line ; the least conceivable portion of a volume is not
a surface, for the simple reason that no portion of a thing can be its
boundary.

Now, in conclusion, we say that geometry rests upon no aifirma-
tions in respect to the infinite, but, on the contrary, it is wholly occu
pied about the relations of the finite in space. We have the assurance
from the doctor that the finite is the sphere of every science, while the
sphere of religion is the infinite. This certainly would cast theology
out of the sphere of science, for the doctor has laid down as one of
its fundamental concepts, " God is an infinite person." Sir William
Hamilton s definition, in its very first clause, also excludes theology
from science, if we take himself as authority for the meaning of the
term cognition. Every cognition is simply a perception of relation.
The infinite and absolute equal God are not thinkable. Hence the
ology can have no " complement of cognition " out of which to classify
a science.

In another place we find that the cry of cgnflict has its origin i:
confounding theology with religion. " Theology is not religion any
more than psychology is human life, or zoology animal life, or botany
plant-life. Theology is objective, religion is subjective. Theology is
the scientific classification of what is known of God; religion is a
loving obedience to God s commandments. Every religious man

2 3 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

must have a theology, but it does not follow that every theologian
must have a religion. There may be a conflict between theology and
some other sciences, and religious men may deplore it," etc. Now, in
our opinion, if every religious man must have a theology, and if his the
ology be in conflict with science, he must either be in conflict in opin
ion with that science or abandon his theology. But the truth is, that
the real, actual conflict arises from the religious element. The con
flict of opinion is in the theology of a man ; the conflict, as it appears
upon the stage of the world s history in acts and deeds, has sprung
from the religious nature, even as defined by Dr. Deems. A man may
hold what theological views you please and make no disturbance in
the world, provided he does not think much about his duty in obeying
the commands, word, or will of God, all of which are a part of his
theology. For instance, one of the commands of God, as contained
in his word, and to which he should render a " loving obedience," is
" Suffer not a witch to live." Now, a man may believe in that com
mand simply as a dogma, but, being indifferent in the matter of ren
dering a loving obedience, he will not let it influence his conduct, and
so will make no effort to hunt up and have witches burnt. If, on the
contrary, he has a loving obedience to God s word, he will trample
upon every kindly feeling and instinct of his nature rather than not
have the command carried out.

Accordingly, we find that it has been the pious, the sincere, the
believers in duty, those wishing to render a loving obedience to God s
word, or what they thought was his word, who have in every age
been the persecutors. But you say that they were acting under a
delusion. They mistook what was the word of God. But how are
they to know what is his word, if direct commands like the foregoing
are not his ? Besides, if there was a mistake, it was in their theology,
and not in their religion ; that only impelling them to lovingly obey
God s commands as they knew them. Religion is but an impulse, a
blind instinct. It knows nothing about weighing and comparing opin
ions. Theology furnishes it with these. If these are bad, its conduct
will be bad; if good, the conduct will be good. All it knows is
blind obedience zeal to do the will of God as it knows it ; and the
pretended science, which alone can give it guidance, is a science of
the Unknowable, the Infinite, the Absolute.

We will close with a quotation from Lecky s " History of Ration
alism," in reference to Luther : " He was subject to many strange hal
lucinations and vibrations of judgment, which he invariably attributed
to the direct agency of Satan. Satan became, in consequence, the
dominating conception of his life. In every critical event, in every
mental perturbation, he recognized satanic power. Fools, deformed
persons, the blind and the dumb, were possessed by devils. Physi
cians, indeed, attempted to explain these infirmities by natural causes ;
but those physicians were ignorant men they did not know all the

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 231

power of Satan. Every form of disease might be produced by Satan
or his agents, the witches ; and none of the infirmities to which Luther
was liable were natural ; but his earache was peculiarly diabolical.
Hail, thunder, and plagues, are all the direct consequence of the inter
vention of spirits. Many of those persons who were supposed to have
committed suicide had in reality been seized by the devil and stran
gled by him, as the traveler is strangled by the robber. The devil
could transport men through the air. He could beget children ; and
Luther himself had come in contact with one of them. An intense
love of children was one of the most amiable characteristics of the
great Reformer ; but on this occasion he most earnestly recommended
the reputed relatives to throw the child into the river, in order to free
their house from the presence of the devil. As a natural consequence
of these modes of thought, witchcraft did not present the slightest
improbability to his mind. In strict accordance with the spirit of his
age, he continually asserted the existence and frequency of the crime,
and emphatically proclaimed the duty of burning witches."

We see what a loving obedience to the word of God led Luther to
recommend. That this spirit has died out, is wholly due to the
advancement of science and rationalism, and not to any change in
the religious spirit per se, or to any different interpretation of the
Bible. The witchcraft is there, as it was in the days of Luther, and
the injunction not to suffer witches to live is there, and neither has
been explained any better than it was in the middle ages. But
the researches of the investigators of Nature have gradually driven
these notions out of the minds of men, and stamped them with the
opprobrium of absurdities.

GREELEY, COLORADO, February 14, 18*76.

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON (COUNT RUMFORD).

IN his late work, " Recent Advances in Physical Science," Prof.
Tait, of the University of Edinburgh, has attempted a history of
dynamical science, or rather of the doctrine of the conservation of
energy. Though this great doctrine is recent in its completer develop
ment, Prof. Tait holds that it is implied in Newton s laws of motion,
and that Newton only failed to grasp it in its modern form for lack of
certain experiments. Where Newton broke down, there the subject
remained for more than a hundred years, no physicist appearing who
could take up the research at that point and carry it on. Prof. Tait
says that " what Newton really wanted was to know what becomes
of work when it is spent in friction." The experiments thus needed
to open the way to a new era in the doctrine of forces were supplied

2 3 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

i

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 233

by a self-educated American, the subject of this sketch. The news
papers say that he is dropping out of memory in this age, and was in
his day a distinguished smoke-doctor and improver of fireplaces ; but
in the scientific world his fame has been increasing in recent years,
and is destined to grow brighter with the further progress of physical
knowledge. As attention has latterly been drawn to what America
has done for science, it is desirable to give an account of the career
and labors of this eminent American investigator.

BENJAMIN THOMPSON was born March 26, 1753, in Woburn, Mas
sachusetts. He first saw the light in the west end of a substantial
farmhouse, which is still standing a few rods south of the meeting
house in North Woburn. The dwelling is said to be well preserved,
retaining its external and internal appearance unchanged, notwith
standing its great age, and it has been recently purchased by the
citizens of Woburn, to be preserved as an object of public and histori
cal interest. His father died in his infancy, and when the child was
three years old his widowed mother was married to Josiah Pierce, Jr.,
of Woburn. His latest biographer, Mr. George E. Ellis, says that
the lad " indicated from his early years an inconstancy and indiffer
ence to the homely routine tasks and the rural employments which
were required of him, while at the same time he exhibited an intense
mental activity, a spirit of ingenuity and inventiveness, and was
found seeking for amusement in things which afterward proved to
lead him to the profitable and beneficent occupations of his mature
life. He showed a particular ardor for arithmetic and mathematics,
and it was remembered of him afterward that his play-time and some
of his proper work-time had been given to ingenious mechanical con
trivances, soon leading to a curious interest in the principles of me
chanics and natural philosophy."

He received the rudiments of a common-school education, and his
guardians, finding that he was unfit for a farm-drudge, apprenticed
him at thirteen to a merchant in Salem. While thus engaged, with
such spare time and private assistance as he could get, he studied
algebra, trigonometry, astronomy, and even the higher mathematics,
so that before the age of fifteen he was able to calculate an eclipse.
At sixteen he was sent to Boston to continue the dry-goods business,
and there attended an evening French school. In 1771 he began the
study of medicine with Dr. John Hay, of Woburn, and at the same
time attended a few lectures at Cambridge. He taught school for a
short time at Bradford on the Merrimack, and afterward taught in an
academy in Concord, New Hampshire, higher up the same river, a
town which had been formerly known as Rumford.

"When Benjamin Thompson went to Concord as a teacher he was
in the glory of his youth, not having yet reached manhood. His friend
Baldwin describes him as of a fine manly make and figure, nearly six
feet in height, of handsome features, bright blue eyes, and dark au-

234 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

burn hair. He had the manners and polish of a gentleman, with fas
cinating ways, and an ability to make himself agreeable. So dili
gently, too, had he used his opportunities of culture and reading, that
he might well have shone even in a circle socially more exacting
than that to which he was now introduced. We may anticipate here
the conclusion to which the review of his whole career will lead us,
that, as boy or man, he was never one to allow an opportunity of
advancement to escape him." At Concord, when nineteen years of
age, Mr. Thompson married Sarah Walker Rolfe, a wealthy widow,
aged thirty-three, and by whom he had a daughter.

The Revolution was now fermenting, and alienations and discords
were springing up among the people. Young Thompson had made
the acquaintance of Governor Wentworth of New Hampshire, who,
discerning his genius and promise, gave him the military commission
of major. This aroused a bitter feeling of jealousy not only in the
subordinate officers over whom he had been sprung, but also with his
superiors, who were all turned into effective enemies. His independent
manners, his intimacy with the royal governor, and, perhaps, incon
siderate words in a time of excitement, led to the suspicion and the
charge that Thompson was unpatriotic and sided with the royalists.
By the potency of gossip and tale-bearing he was brought under sus
picion of Toryism, and threatened with that dignified discipline of
outraged patriotism, tar and feathers and riding on a rail. Thompson
indignantly denied the accusation. He called for proof, and a meet
ing of his townsmen was called to consider his case. But no evidence
of any kind was produced against him. Nevertheless the adverse
feeling in Concord was so strong that he found it necessary to
leave. There can be little doubt of the brutal injustice with which
Thompson was treated. His biographer writes with evident impar
tiality, and presents the case in all its aspects, and, admitting that
nothing bearing the character of evidence was to be found against
his patriotism, hes ays that "Major Thompson insisted from the first,
and steadfastly to the close of his life affirmed, that he was friendly
to the patriot cause, and had never done or said anything which could
be truthfully alleged as hostile to it." The simple fact seems to be
that while young Thompson entertained, and probably expressed, his
doubts about the issue of a conflict with the mother-country, as many
other independent-minded men must have done, he was nevertheless
in sympathy with the patriot cause, and was not only willing to devote
himself to it, but earnestly sought the opportunity by petitioning the
Provincial Congress for a position in the army. But he was defeated
through the machinations of the officers who resented his appoint
ment by Wentworth. His biographer says: " He lingered about the
camp. He devoted himself zealously to the study of military tactics.
He continued his experiments on gunpowder. He strolled between
Woburn, Medford, Cambridge, and Charlestown, learning whatever

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 235

his inquisitive mind could appropriate. But there was one set of men
whom he never could conciliate, who mistrusted his purposes, and
cast upon him lowering looks as they met him about the camp.
These were the general and field officers from New Hampshire, who
looked upon him as a dandy and an upstart at least, if not also at
heart a traitor. They would not associate with him, still less confide
in him." It is further stated on authority, that there is no reason
for doubting that "after the battle at Charleston, Thompson
was favorably introduced by some officers of Cambridge to General
Washington, who had just assumed the command; and that, had it
not been for the opposition of some of the New Hampshire officers, he
would have had the place in the American artillery corps which was
given to Colonel Gridley." The genius of Thompson was thus lost
to the American cause through the rivalries and hatreds of army
officers, a source of evil which profoundly troubled the life of Wash
ington during the lie volution, as it did also that of Lincoln during the
civil war.

Nothing was therefore left to Thompson but to remain in obscurity
at home under a cloud of suspicion that would have darkened his life,
or to seek a field of action elsewhere. He was a man of high spirit
and great force of character, and of course would not submit like a
poltroon to the degrading alternative. He accordingly took service
under the government of his early allegiance. He went to England,
and soon after his arrival, at the age of twenty-three, was given an
appointment in the colonial office, under Lord George Germaine. He
directed immediate attention to military matters ; improved the ac
coutrements of the Horse-Guards ; continued and extended his experi
ments on gunpowder, and improved the construction of firearms. He
experimented with great guns, made a study of the principles of naval
artillery, and devised a code of marine signals. He also made investi
gations into the cohesion of bodies, which he communicated to Sir
Joseph Banks, President of the Royal Society, and was elected Fellow
of that body in 1779 at the age of twenty-six. He very soon became
one of the most active and honored members of the Royal Society,
always attending its meetings when he was in London. He after
ward received a colonelcy from the British Government, and came
back to this country in command of a regiment on Long Island, build
ing a fort at Huntington. He returned to England in 1783, and the
same year made a tour on the Continent. At Strasburg he acciden
tally met with Prince Maximilian of Deux Ponts, then field-marshal in
the service of France, who became so interested in Colonel Thompson
that he gave him an introduction to his uncle the Elector of Bavaria
at Munich. The Elector was a man of liberal views, and discerning in
Thompson the talent that he thought might be made available in pro
moting the interests of his government and people, he made overtures
to him to enter his service in a joint military and civil capacity. The

236 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

proposition was favorably received, but, as Colonel Thompson was a
half-pay officer of the English crown, he needed to have the permission
of the king before making a Continental engagement. He therefore
returned to England in 1784, and received not only the king s per
mission, but also the honor of knighthood and the continuance of his
half-pay, and he returned to Munich the same year as Sir Benjamin
Thompson. A splendid field was now before him, and he entered
upon a series of the most remarkable labors, to which he devoted him
self with great assiduity. "These labors ranged from subjects of the
homeliest nature in their bearings upon the thrift, economy, and com
fort of life for the poorest classes, through enterprises of wide-extended
and radical reform, and comprehensive benevolence, up to the severest
tests and experiments -in the interests of practical science." . . . . " The
elector was from first to last his constant friend, never thwarting him,
never holding back his aid ; but, on the contrary, ready always to
advance every plan of his, and to espouse his views when questioned
or opposed by other counselors."

It is impossible, in this brief sketch, even to enumerate the ex
tensive and important measures of public beneficence and social
amelioration which Sir Benjamin projected and successfully carried
out. He reorganized the entire military establishment of Bavaria,
introduced not only a simpler code of tactics and a new system
of order, discipline, and economy, among the troops and industrial
schools for the soldiers children, but greatly improved the construc
tion and modes of manufacture of arms and ordnance. He devoted
himself to various ameliorations, such as improving the construction
and arrangement of the dwellings of the working-classes, providing
for them a better education, organizing houses of industry, introducing
superior breeds of horses and cattle, and promoting landscape-garden
ing, which he did by converting an old abandoned hunting-ground,
near Munich, into a park, where, after his departure, the inhabitants
erected a monument to his honor. He moreover suppressed the sys
tem of beggary, which had grown into a recognized profession in Bava
ria and become an enormous public evil one of the most remarkable
social reforms on record. Mendicity in Bavaria was at that time
"a stupendous and organized system of abuses, which, gradually
growing upon the tolerance of the government and people, had
reached such proportions and had established itself with such a vigor
ous power of mischief as to be acquiesced in as irremediable. Beggars
and vagabonds, the larger part of whom were also thieves, swarmed
all over the country, especially in the cities. These were not only
natives, but foreigners. They were of both sexes and all ages ; they
strolled in all directions, lining the highways, levying contributions
with clamorous demands, entering houses, stores, and workshops, to
rob, interrupting the devotions of the churches with their exactions,
and extorting everywhere, through fear, what they failed to get by

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 237

importunity. These swarms of mendicants and freebooters were in.
the main composed of strong, healthy, and able-bodied persons, who
preferred an easy life of indolence to any kind of industry. They had
become the terror and sco.urge of the country. They would steal,
maim, and expose little children, and compel them to extort, by their
piteous appeals, a fixed sum for a day s gatherings, with the threat of
an inhuman punishment if they failed. Every attempt to suppress
this system of outrages having been thwarted, the community had
learned to submit and conform to it as admitting of no relief; and
this wretched tolerance seemed to double the number of these vaga
bonds, while it raised beggary into a profession." So systematic and
rooted had this state of things become that " the beggars formed a
caste in the cities, with professional rules, assigning to them beats
and districts, which were disposed of by regulations, in case of the
death, promotion, or removal, of the proprietors.

Sir Benjamin resolved upon the extirpation of this system, and the
conversion of this lazy and dissolute class into thrifty, self-sustaining
laborers. His policy was cautious, deliberate, and wise. He knew
exactly what he wished to do, made ample provision for it, and secured
the cooperation of the influential classes in the execution of his plan.
We cannot describe it here, but its success was complete. The beg
gars were swept from the streets, cared for, soon set to work, and
raised to a condition of self-respecting industry. So effectual was the
work that Sir Benjamin won the heart-felt gratitude of the very class
upon which he had operated. This is beautifully illustrated by the
fact that, " on one occasion, when he was dangerously ill, the poor of
Munich went publicly in a body to the cathedral and put up public
prayers for his recovery. And again, when, four years afterward,
they learned that he was in a similar condition at Naples, they of
their own accord set apart an hour each evening, after they had
finished their work in the military workhouse, to pray for him."

For the valuable services rendered in Bavaria Sir Benjamin received
many distinctions, and, among others, was made Count of the Holy
Roman Empire. On receiving this dignity he chose a title in remem
brance of the country of his nativity, and was henceforth known as
Count of Rumford. His health failing from excessive labor, and
what he considered the unfavorable climate, he came back to England
in 1798, and had serious thoughts of returning to the United States,
having received from the American Government the compliment of a
formal invitation to revisit his native land. While in England, Count
Rumford organized the Royal Institution of Great Britain in 1800,
which was designed for the promotion of original discovery and the
diffusion of a taste for science among the educated classes. Its suc
cess has more than vindicated the sagacity of its founder. He after
ward returned to the Continent, and, while frequently visiting Munich,
took up his residence in Paris. In 1805 he married the widow of the

2 3 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

celebrated French chemist Lavoisier, who was beheaded in the French
Revolution. The union, however, not proving a happy one, they soon
separated, and Rumford died in his residence at Auteuil the 21st of
August, 1814. His first wife had died in 1792, and his daughter, who
inherited his title, had come to him at Munich, and returned to Amer
ica after her father s decease.

The philanthropic interest of Count Rumford in the poor and de
fective domestic life of the lower classes of society had a great influ
ence in determining the course of his scientific inquiries. It was this
feeling that led him to investigate the properties and domestic man
agement of heat. He determined the amount of it arising from the
combustion of different kinds of fuel, by means of a calorimeter of his
own invention. He reconstructed the fireplace, and so improved the
methods of warming apartments and cooking food as to produce a
saving of from one-half to seven-eighths of the fuel previously con
sumed. He improved the construction of stoves, cooking-ranges, coal-
grates, and chimneys, and showed that the non-conducting power of
cloth is due to the air inclosed among its fibres ; and he first pointed
out that mode of action of heat called convection ; indeed, he was the
first clearly to discriminate between the three modes of propagation
of heat radiation, conduction, aad convection. He determined the
almost non-conducting properties of liquids, investigated the sources
of the production of light, and invented a mode of measuring it. He
was the first to apply steam generally to the warming of fluids and to
culinary operations. He also, as has been stated, experimented ex
tensively upon the use of gunpowder, the strength of materials, and
the maximum density of water, and made many valuable and original
observations upon an extensive range of subjects, which are described
in the essays recently for the first time published in a complete. form.
As Prof. J. D. Forbes remarks, " all Rumford s experiments were made
with admirable precision, and recorded with elaborate fidelity and in
the plainest language. Everything with him was reduced to weight
and measure, and no pains were spared to obtain the best results."

But it was his investigations concerning the nature of heat that
will make him immortal. By experiments in boring cannon he proved
its immateriality, and that it does not consist of an imponderable sub
stance or fluid, as implied by the old theory of caloric. In these ex
periments he demonstrated that the heat generated by friction does
not come from any latent source in the materials used, but is derived
from the power spent in producing the friction ; that its amount is in
the ratio of the power expended; that it is a case of the transforma
tion of energy, and a mode of molecular motion. He was half a cen
tury in advance of his age, and his researches were long unappre
ciated ; but they are now recognized as forming an epoch in the
progress of physical science.

CORRESP ONDENCE.

2 39

CORRESPONDENCE.

"WHAT CONSTITUTES RELIGION?"

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

DEAR SIR : The use of my name
twice in your notice of Mr. Fiske s
new work on " The Unseen World," in
your May number, perhaps justifies me in
soliciting a small space for comment on
some expressions in that notice.

You are defending Dr. Draper from Mr.
Fiske s trenchant attacks. To that there
can be no objection. Confederates are jus
tified in standing by one another ; but I do
not think that you are justified in saying
that " the point of contention is as to what
constitutes religion." So far from there
being contention on that point,, there is
really no important difference. All " sects,"
no matter how much they " eat each other
up in their denial of dogmas," as you af
firm, agree as to what religion is. It does
not seem edifying to behold in you the tem
per which dictates the first of the following
sentences, although the exceeding generos
ity of the careful proposal in the second
has a redeeming flavor. " We hope that
the agreement of Messrs. Brownson, Hill,
Washburn, Deems, Fiske & Co., in de
nouncing the groundlessness of the con
flict, will not be construed as implying
any agreement among the parties as to what
religion is. If these gentlemen will get to
gether and settle the point, an important
step will be gained, and THE POPULAR SCI
ENCE MONTHLY will gladly pay the expenses
of a convention of reasonable length for
such a purpose ; but we stipulate not to
foot the bills until they reach an agree
ment."

For the other gentlemen I cannot an
swer, but I simply say that I never did
"denounce the groundlessness of the con
flict," but have announced it and endeav
ored to demonstrate it, and you are witness
that I am "vehement in asserting the
groundlessness and absurdity of Dr. Dra
per s assumption" of the conflict (page
113).

Why are you so anxious to keep your
readers from believing that the gentlemen
whose names you have recited in fact do
not and really cannot agree as to what is
" religion ? " Have you ever seen anything
in our writings or heard anything in our
oral teachings to justify the supposition
that we do not agree ? As you challenge
us, I accept the challenge for my part. I
will not expose you to the cost of a con
vention, but here, in my study, without
consultation with any of the other gentle

men you name, I venture to give two defi
nitions of religion, in both of which I vent
ure to predict that all those gentlemen, if
they see this letter, will heartily agree, and
that these definitions will win the assent
also of Archbishop McCloskey, Bishop Pot
ter, Bishop Foster, Bishop Wightman, Chan
cellor Crosby, Rev. Dr. Armitage, and Rev.
Dr. Storrs, representatives of the leading
" sects."

To give the least first, here is my own
definition: Religion is loving obedience to
God s will. No matter how or where that
will is discovered, nor what it is, he is a
religious man who does what he believes
will please God, because he loves God.

The second is authoritative. It is that
of St. James (i. 27) : " True religion and
undefiled before God and the Father is
this : To visit the fatherless and widows
in their affliction, and to keep himself un
spotted from the world." A life of inward
purity and outward beneficence is a reli
gious life.

I venture to think you may pass these
around the whole circle of religionists and
find unanimity. But do not we religionists
disagree ? Certainly. The five gentlemen
you have mentioned, and the seven whom I
have named, differ more or less, oftener
more than less, and on some points appar
ently irreconcilably. But mark : we never
differ in our religion ; it is in our science.
The moment two men become scientific,
whether they are religious or not, they begin
to " eat each other up in their denial of dog
mas." So long as we keep to religion, we
are one. Our hearts are together. It is
only with our heads that we butt one an
other. I have worshiped God in company
with each of the seven distinguished cler
gymen whom I have ventured to name, and
yet there is not one of them who does not
hold some dogma of doctrine or ecclesiasti-
cism to which I cannot subscribe. As re
ligionists, we agree. As scientists, we dif
fer. It is on the ground of our theology
that we differ, and that is purely a scien
tific ground. Be pleased always to remem
ber that theology is only a science like
geology or biology.

But, my dear sir, we theologians would
be out of fashion if we did not " eat each
other up in our denial of dogmas." All
other scientists do. The dogma of hctero-
genesis tries to " eat up " the dogma of
homogenesis, while the dogma of pangene-
sis is fairly bursting itself to swallow both
the others bodily ; and there is no small
conflict between spontaneity and heredity,

2 4

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and meanwhile biosis is striving vigorously
to hold its ground against archebiosis.

Behold ! are not Religion and Life the
two greatest subjects ? You are quite anx
ious that your readers shall fancy that reli
gionists cannot agree in their definitions of
religion. But you do not show them that
even on the subject of Life the scientists
are greatly at difference. Prof. Owen says
that " Life is a sound ; " Schelling says it is
a "tendency." Herbert Spencer calls it
"a continuous adjustment." Dr. Meissner
says it is " but motion." Dr. Bastian holds
that he has produced plants and animals
from inorganic matter. Schultz positively
believes it never was done and cannot be
done : and Prof. Huxley holds that " con
structive chemistry could do nothing with
out the influence of preexisting living pro
toplasm."

I do not wish to crowd your pages, and
so content myself with these few instances
out of the multitudes of conflicting and
perplexing differences among " advanced
thinkers."

Even you, my dear sir, have not utterly
escaped. You once wrote, " If the forces
are correlated in organic growth and nutri
tion, they must be in organic action." Man
ifestly, after that sentence was written,
you meditated, and, meditating, you dis
covered that the sequitur was not quite as
apparent as it ought to be. You did not
strike out the sentence, but you apologized
for it handsomely by saying, " From the
great complexity of the conditions, the
same exactness will not be expected here as
in the inorganic field." But you see, my
dear sir, that theology is a science which
has for its field those subjects in which
there is the greatest complexity of condi
tions, and you must not demand of your
brother scientists as much exactness in the
statements of a metaphysical proposition as
you may in the statement of the length of a
fish s tooth.

But as to your statement that the forces
must be correlated in organic action, are you
not in danger of being " eaten up " by the
statements of your friends, Bastian, Barker,
and, what is still harder on you, Herbert
Spencer ? Prof. Barker teaches that the
correlation of the natural forces with
thought " has never yet been measured."
Then, it is a mere " guess." Dr. Bastian
says that it " cannot be proved " that sen
sation and thought are truly the direct re
sults of molecular activity. Then it is a
mere "guess." Mr. Herbert Spencer,
whose name is conclusive authority with
you, and who, I am most frank to ad
mit, knows as much about the "unknow
able " as any writer whose works I have
read, says that the outer force and the in
ward feeling it excites " do not even main
tain an unvarying proportion." Then it is
a mere "guess." And, my dear sir, I do

most heartily agree with your statement,
" not he who Besses is to be esteemed the
true discoverer, but he who demonstrates a
new truth."

Now, if Messrs. Spencer, Barker, Tyn-
dall, Huxley, Biichner, Draper, Youmans,
"& Co.," will "get together and settle"
what Life is, or Thought, " an important
step will be gained ;" and, not to be out
done by your generosity, I will engage to
" pay the expenses of a convention of rea
sonable length for such a purpose," but I
" stipulate not to foot the bills until you
reach an agreement."

Trusting that both you and I, as we
grow older, may have more science and
more religion, and room enough in our heads
and hearts for both without " conflict,"
I am, very faithfully, your co-laborer,
CHARLES F. DEEMS.

Of course Dr. Deems meant to announce,
assert, and declare, the groundlessness of
the conflict between Religion and Science ;
and we think the readers of our article which
he criticises were not in the slightest danger
of misapprehending his position, notwith
standing the slip of writing in which he is
said to have denounced it.

Dr. Deems asks : " Why are you so
anxious to keep your readers from believing
that the gentlemen whose names you have
recited in fact do not, and really cannot,
agree as to what is religion ? " Has not
the doctor here slipped also, in inadvertent
haste, and does he not really mean, Why
are you so anxious to make your readers be
lieve, etc. ? and to this we reply, that the
anxiety in regard to a definition of religion
has not originated with us. It is the re
viewers of Dr. Draper who have called for
a definition of religion from him, and con
demn his book as dealing with a " conflict "
existing only in his own imagination, be
cause he has not defined what religion is.
Had he undertaken this, they tell us, it
would have at once appeared that there is
and can be really no such conflict. We
said that "the point of contention is as to
what constitutes religion," because the the
ological reviewers of Draper charge that
what he treats as religion, and as conflict
ing with science, is not religion. We
have not denied that religion can be so de
fined as to avoid all antagonism with sci
ence ; and there is hope that the time may
come when such a definition will be ac
cepted and the antagonism will disappear.
We only maintain that in the historic past,

EDITORS TABLE.

241

with which Dr. Draper deals, such an inter
pretation of religion had not been reached,
and that it is very far from being arrived at
at the present time. Dr. Draper has been
reproached for not defining religion; had
he done so, and had his definition described
that which has passed under the name of
religion, and been held as religion, genera
tion after generation, his definition would
have been at once repudiated by the theo
logical party. We said that those who
agree in demanding a definition of religion
from Dr. Draper, and condemn his book as
treating of an illusive conflict because he
does not furnish it, cannot themselves agree
upon the definition they profess to so much
desire. Does Dr. Deems accept Mr. Fiske s
definition? And if there is one definition,
clear and complete, which all men can
adopt, why does he bring us two, and
which are we to accept ? They are cer
tainly not identical, lor one makes it con
sist in a special relation of man to God,
and the other in charity and moral purity.
Dr. Deems defines religion as " loving obe
dience to God s will ; " but if the obedience
is inspired by Calvinistic fear, is it religion
or not? Loving obedience to God s will
but how ascertained ? Dr. Deems may say,
with broad liberality, either by the study of
God s printed word, or by the study of his
living works ; but can he insure us an agree
ment among all parties upon this basis ?
From the doctor s position, that religious
people disagree among each other on ac
count of their science, we respectfully dis
sent. Science is not an agency of discord,
but of concord. There are undoubtedly
disagreements in science, for its nature is
progressive, and diversities of view are in

evitably incident to its imperfect stages.
Yet the great law of scientific thought is
that, with the progress of investigation,
there is ever a tendency to wider agreement,
until its truths at length become established
and universally accepted. Throughout civil
ization it is in science, and, we might almost
say, in science alone, that men are brought
into essential agreement. Through the pow
er it has conferred over the elements of Na
ture have come the marvels of modern in
ternational communication and intercourse ;
and through the truths it has established in
the domain of experience has come a body
of common belief, which men of all lan
guages, religions, and nationalities, can ac
cept, so that we must regard science as in
fact the predominant unifying agency of the
world. The reason is, that it deals with the
order of Nature, which is constant and ever
open to observation and research. New
questions are, of course, constantly arising
in science, upon which there are at first
wide contrasts of opinion, but the history of
science abundantly shows, either that such
questions a re gradually cleared up, or, if this
is found to be impossible if the truth can
not be determined about them then there
comes agreement in this, and they are
finally put aside as insoluble, and therefore
questions with which science has no legiti
mate concern. Conflicting views now pre
vail on the problems of the origin of life
and the nature of life, and time alone can
determine what will be the issue of these
inquiries ; but we submit that these diver
sities of opinion are of a quite different
kind from those between 1&e Unitarian and
the Trinitarian the Universalist and the
Perditionist.

EDITOR S TABLE.

WHO SHALL STUDY THE BABIES?

THE reader s attention will be ar
rested by the novelty of our first
article, by a distinguished literary
Frenchman, giving the result of his
observations on the progress of an in
fant in learning to talk. We confess
to some mortification at seeing the
name of a man at the head of such a
VOL. ix. 16

discussion. Xot that the dignity of
M. Taine is at all compromised, for he
never undertook a more important or a
more distinguished task than critically
noting the steps of mental evolution in
a baby. Nevertheless, this would seem
to be preeminently the proper work of
woman a work to which we might
infer she would be drawn by her feel-

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ings, in which she would be interested
by her curiosity, and would take up
from the temptation of her special op
portunities. Yet M. Taine found that
it had not been done. He wished to
test Max Muller s views in regard to
the genesis of language, and wanted a
series of observations of infantine men
tal growth for the purpose. But they
had not been made, the facts were
wanting, and nothing remained but to
make the study himself. We say this
kind of work belongs to woman, and
she is perfectly competent to peform it.
Why, then, has it not been undertaken,
and why has there not grown up a body
of carefully-observed and widely-veri
fied facts regarding psychological de
velopment in infancy such as would be
valuable for arriving at inductive truths
for guidance in the rational education
of childhood? Undoubtedly, psychol
ogy is a backward science, imperfect
from the obscurity and complexity of
its questions, and its long cultivation by
unscientific methods. But the value
of observations upon the mental un
folding of infancy is not, by any means,
dependent upon the possibility of im
mediately explaining them. Such ob
servations, if accurately made and in
telligently recorded, will have a value
of their own independent of the state
of psychological science, while they
would become^ permanent and potent
means of its advancement. In most
other fields of natural phenomena the
facts are far in advance of the theories
by which they are organized into sci
ence ; in the field of mental growth,
however, observations are scanty and
speculation superabundant.

We are, of course, not to expect
that things will come before they are
wanted, and, if such observations are
not called for, why should they be sup
plied ? But the facts have been long
and loudly called for, if not by psy
chologists, then by practical educators,
while woman has had exclusive charge
of the education that begins in infancy.

She is an educator as a mother, and
the culture of childhood has almost
universally fallen into her hands as a
teacher. We might surely have ex
pected that, with their great excess of
opportunity, some few women of abil
ity would have gone carefully and criti
cally and often over the ground which
M. Taine has passed over once with
such interesting results. But the work
that might have been expected, so far
as we are aware, has not been done,
nor is there any promise of it. The
difficulty is, that there has been noth
ing in woman s education either to in
terest her in the subject or to qualify
her for dealing with it. Observations,
to be valuable for scientific purposes,
involve an accuracy of perception and
an intellectual discrimination which are
not to be had except by patient and
methodical training of the observing
powers. This is the one thing that has
not been included in female education.
Neither languages, nor mathematics,
nor history, nor mental philosophy, nor
music, nor general literature, aifords any
exercise whatever of the observing fac
ulties. A student may become pro
ficient in all these branches, while the
intellectual interest in the phenomena
of daily experience, and the objects of
common life, remains as dormant as it
is in the savages. Nay, more, absorp
tion in these modes of mental activ
ity, which involve chiefly the memory
and reflective powers, is fatally un
favorable to observation, as it brings
the mind under the control of mental
habits that exclude it. No woman can
make valuable observations on mental
progress in infancy that has not had a
culture fitted for it, first, by a long prac
tice, such as she gives to music, in in
dependent observation in some branch
of objective science, as botany, for ex
ample ; and, secondly, by a thorough
knowledge of the constitution of the
child, especially the functions of its
nervous mechanism. With their heads
filled with history, aesthetics, algebra,

EDITOR S TABLE.

2 43

French, and German, they will never
attain to these qualifications for study
ing the character of children. The
seminaries do not prepare them for it ;
the high-schools and the normal schools
do not confer it. Nor is "this all, nor
the worst. There is no appreciation of
it or aspiration for it. The so-called
woman s movement, which professes to
aim at her higher improvement and the
enlargement of her activities, is not in
this direction. It looks to public, profes
sional, and political life, as woman s fu
ture and better sphere of action. In the
new colleges for women that are spring
ing up in all directions with munificent
endowments, the supreme consideration
seems to be to ignore sex, and frame the
feminine curriculum of study on the old
masculine models, and keep it up to the
masculine standards. The spirit of these
schools is that of a slavish imitation.
They are organized with no reference
to the urgent and living needs of society,
but they go in for the traditional trum
peries of the old colleges ; and, instead
of studying science in its personal, do
mestic, and social bearings, the women
demand Latin and Greek, and as much
of it as the masculine intellect has proved
capable of surviving. Children are imi
tators. Savages are imitators. What
else are the women in their demands
for new and ampler opportunities of
culture ? They will study classics, and
let the men study the babies ; but, if
they are incompetent, of course the men
must do it. For this business of study
ing the science of infancy must be pur
sued by somebody, thoroughly and ex
haustively. It is nothing less than a
transcendent problem of Tmman charac
ter lying at the foundation of the social
state ; for only as the human being is
understood in its deeper organic laws,
prenatal and infantine, as well as in ita
subsequent unfolding, can we arrive at
settled and scientific views regarding
the rights, claims, duties, and true in-.:
terests of the individual in society. If
not a new research, it is at least a new
impulse and stage of research, and We

say again that we should think intelli
gent and ambitious women would be
glad to have a share in it, and would
have wisdom enough to include it in
their extended schemes of female edu
cation.

ENGLISH PHILOSOPHY IN GERXA2TY.

WE not long ago called attention to
a newspaper article under the title of
"German Darwinism," which made a
point against Herbert Spencer as not be
ing recognized in Germany. We point
ed out various reasons in the national
habits of thought, why Spencer s doc
trines, which are put forth under the
form of a philosophical system, would
be likely not to attract the attention
of German thinkers so early as those
of other Continental countries. Our
view has since been strikingly confirmed
by an eminent German authority, Prof.
Wundt, of the University of Leipsic, a
physiologist and psychologist of world
wide reputation. In a review of the
German translation of "First Princi
ples," published in the Jena Literary
Gazette, Prof. Wundt gives an excellent
account of the book, from which the fol
lowing statements are condensed:

" Of living English philosophers Herbert
Spencer undoubtedly stands in the foremost
rank, yet his works have hitherto been little
known in Germany. It would, however,
appear that this neglect is soon to be re
trieved, for, simultaneously with the ap
pearance of the work under review, two oth
er volumes by the same author are issued.
By giving an excellent translation of First
Principles (under the title of The Bases of
Philosophy ), Dr. Vetter has rendered good
service to his countrymen, and it is to be
hoped that he will further aid in making
this distinguished author known in Ger
many by translating the subsequent volumes
of his system."

"In the whole tenor of his views Mr.
Spencer differs widely from the speculative
philosophers of Germany. The indomita
ble persistency with which for twenty-five
years he has worked on the various branches
mfi science, bringing them into one system,
has no parallel in Germany, save, perhaps,
in Hegel s Encyclopaedia. "

"Among the dominant ideas in this sys-

244

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tern the doctrine of evolution is preeminent.
In Spencer s mind evolution is not merely a
principle in biology, but extends on the one
hand to inorganic Nature, and on the other
hand to the domain of psychology and so
ciology. And here we take occasion to re
mind the reader that, independently of the
stimulus given to scientific thought by Dar
win, Mr. Spencer early recognized the im
portance of the law of evolution, to which
from the first he gave very wide scope, and
which he has illustrated with a multitude
of original ideas."

u A detailed criticism of the First Prin
ciples would necessarily require a book for
itself, more especially because the German
reader, from the very nature of his philo
sophical training, will enter on the study of
the most general laws of being, the demon
stration of which is the aim of the present
work, with prepossessions different from
those of the English author. Perhaps in
the philosophical literature of recent times
there is no English work which bears the
national stamp so visibly as does Spencer s.
From this point of view alone, to say nothing
of the many pregnant thoughts it contain?,
it well deserves the attention of German
readers. John Stuart Mill, in the philosoph
ical direction of his mind, came too much
under the influence of the French, particu
larly of Comte. Spencer s mind is, no
doubt, more original than Mill s, and more
free from foreign influences, though inferior
in the splendor of external form. In all the
philosophical speculations of Spencer we
plainly see that practical sense which makes
its way through the most difficult problems
by the shortest route."

" Finally, though the German reader will
find in these Bases of Philosophy much
that he will object to, and though on the
capital points of the system he will dissent
from the author oftener than he agrees with
him, nevertheless he will not lay the book
aside without having received many a valu
able suggestion. Indeed, it may be truly
said of works on philosophy, that we learn
more from those which arouse our opposi
tion than from those which merely echo our
own opinions.."

THE RUMFORD MEDALS.

THE Rumford gold medal of the
American Academy of Arts and Sci
ences, founded to commemorate impor
tant contributions toward our kno wl-
edge of heat and light, has just been

granted to Dr. John William Draper,
of New York. This is a distinguished
tribute to the scientific labors of our
eminent physicist and chemist, and the
Academy has honored itself in the
award. Tet, those who know how
early and eminent were Dr. Draper s
original contributions to the chemistry
of light, will he tempted to ask why
this distinction was not accorded by
the Academy to Dr. Draper a genera
tion ago. As reminiscences of Count
Rumford are being revived just now,
it will be interesting to glance at the
history of his medals, which have at
tained such celebrity in tho scientific
world.

Deeply impressed with the impor
tance of extending the knowledge of
heat and light, to which he had de
voted himself with great assiduity and
success, Count Kumford, in 1796, pre
sented to the Royal Society 1,000,
the interest of which was to be spent
in striking two medals both in the
same die, one of gold and one of silver,
worth the interest of the donation for
two years, and to be given biennially
for th e most important discovery or
improvement relating to heat and light
that should have been made* during the
preceding two years in any part of Eu
rope. The trust was accepted and the
medals designed. The first award was
to Rumford himself in 1802. In 1804
John Leslie received the Rumford med
als. The honor then passed, in 1806;
to Murdock ; in 1810 to Malus ; in 1814
to Dr. Wells; in 1816 to Hnmphry
Davy ; in 1818 to David Brewster ; in
1824 to Fresnel ; in 1834 to Melloni ;
in 1838 to J. D. Forbes; in 1840 to
Biot ; in 1842 to Fox-Talbot ; in 1846
to Faraday ; in 1848 to Regnault ; in
1850 to Arago ; in 1852 to Stokes ; in
1854 to Arnott; in 1856 to Pasteur;
in 1858 to Jamin ; in 1860 to Clerk-
Maxwell; in 1862 to Kirchhoff; in
1864 to Tyndall; in 1866 to Fizeau ; in
1868 to Balfour Stewart. .

At the same time Count Rumford
made a corresponding donation to the

LITERARY NOTICES.

--

American Academy of Arts -and Sci
ences, instituted in 1780. Five thou
sand dollars were presented, the accru
ing interest of which was to be invest
ed in medals, and granted biennially by
the academy for the most important
discoveries in relation to heat or light
made within the preceding two years.
It was also provided that, if this term
passed without any discovery or im
provement being made that should be
deemed worthy of the award, the ac
cruing interest was to be added to the
principal, and the augmented income
thus arising was to be added to the
medals when the next award was made.
But the arrangement seemed to be a
futile one, as there were none in |
America who troubled themselves to
extend the knowledge of heat and !
light ; or, at all events, there were no .
such extensions as in the opinion of the [
Academy were entitled to win the
prizes. Years passed, and the money ;
accumulated until the Academy became
embarrassed by the question what to
do with it. And so they got a law ;
passed by the Legislature empowering
them to depart from the strict letter of
the endowment, and use the funds with
more freedom in the interest of ad
vancing knowledge. In 1839 the A cad- |
emy gave from the interest of the Rum-
ford fund the sum of $600 to Dr. Hare,
of Philadelphia, in consideration of his I
invention of the compound blowpipe,
and his improvement in galvanic appa
ratus. The Rumford medal was grant
ed by the Academy, in 1862, to John B.
Ericssen for his caloric - engine ; in
1865 to Daniel Tread well, for improve
ments in the management of heat; in
1867 to Alvan Clark, for improvement
in the lens of the refracting telescope ;
and in 1870 to George H. Corliss, for
improvements in the steam-engine.
When the gift was "bade to Dr. Hare,
the fund amounted to $27,000 ; and it
has now grown to $42,000.

The biographer of Rumford makes
the following significant observation:
" It is remarkable that the count, after

having liberally provided funds for
medals in the award of two learned
bodies, should a few years afterward,
when drawing his plan and publishing
his proposals for his own Royal Institu
tion, have introduced into them an ex
press prohibition of all premiums and
rewards."

LITERARY NOTICES.

Ox FERMENTATION. By P. SCHUTZENBERGER.
With Twenty-eight Illustrations. Pp.
306. Price, $1.50. D. Appleton & Co.
No. XX. International Scientific Series.

IN the logic of science, the misleading
influence of words is a matter of ever-in
creasing importance. Words remain, but
the ideas they represent are altered, ex-|
panded, revolutionized. The old and nar
row meanings live on in common speech,
and the changed and enlarged significations
are current among men of science, so that
when the terms are employed between these
classes they have so totally different a sig
nification that intelligent and critical in
terchange of ideas between them is hardly
possible. The term applied to the pres
ent work is a case in point. The word 1
" fermentation " is derived from fervere,
to boil, and applies to the agitation or,
effervescence of saccharine liquids when
placed in contact with ferments a phe
nomenon that was probably familiarly
known long before the earliest traces of-
history. To the mass of people, the word
" fermentation " suggests bread-making and
brewing, with the production of spirituous
and souring products. To the man of science
and as treated in the present volume, fer
mentation has become one of the great
gateways to biology. The subject has ever
been, and must continue to be, of great
practical moment in its domestic and manu
facturing relations ; and every step in its
scientific elucidation is therefore a contri
bution to the theory and progress of the
arts. The knowledge of it has now become,
so clear and extended, that it was necessary,
it should be brought together in a special
treatise for reference for all who are in
terested in practical problems of organic
chemistry. But while the present book
fulfills this condition, it also aims at the

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

higher object of bringing the principles of
the subject into relation with philosophical
biology. The scientific significance of fer
mentation lies in the fact that it brings be
fore us the action and effects of the lowest
and most elemental forms of living organ
isms ; it deals with the behavior and influ
ence in numerous relations of elementary
organisms reduced to a single cell ; but these
cells are the units of all organic life, a plant
or an animal of a higher order being only
the union under special laws of different
kinds of cells, each of which acts in a cer
tain determinable manner. While the high
er organisms baffle analysis from the infinite
complexity and diversity of their minute or
histological elements, the key to their study
is offered in these lower structures, for " the
more simple an organism is, the fewer spe
cial kinds of cells it contains, the simpler
are the chemical reactions which take place
in it, and the more easily are they separated
from each other and isolated by experi
ment;" and from this point of view the
history of fermentation becomes nothing
less than that of the chemical phenomena
of life. The thorough study of ferments,
therefore, becomes an indispensable scien
tific prerequisite to the knowledge of the
higher organisms.

The investigation of the influence of
different ferment-cells in initiating differ
ent lines of chemical change brings us into
closer quarters with the relations of chemi
cal and so-called vital forces. As the dif
ferent radiant forces, thermal, luminous, and
chemical, produce their profoundly diverse
effects simply by variations of wave-length,
so the different kind of cells are supposed
to initiate different chemical changes by
differences in the vibratory rhythm which
starts them. In relation to this point our
author remarks :

"The transformation of sugar into alcohol
and carbon dioxide and the conversion of the
same body into lactic acid are chemical phe
nomena which we cannot yet reproduce by the
intervention of heat alone, nor by the additional
agency of light or of electricity. The force capa
ble of attacking, in a certain determinate direc
tion, the complex edifice which we call sugar, an
edifice composed of atoms of carbon, hydrogen,
and oxygen, grouped according to a determinate
law this force, which ie manifested only in the
living cell of the ferment, is a force as material
as all those which we are accustomed to utilize.
Its principal peculiarity is, that it is only found

in the living organisms, to which it gives their
peculiar character. We ought not to allow our
selves to be stopped by this rampart, over which
no one has hitherto been able to pass ; we ought
not to say to the chemist, You shall go no
farther, for beyond this is the domain of life,
where you have no control. The history of
science shows us the weakness of these so-called
impassable barriers. No one can any longer
admit that vital force has power over matter, to
change, counterbalance, or annul, the natural
play of chemical affinities. That which we have
agreed to call chemical affinity is not an absolute
force ; this affinity is modified in numberless
ways, according as the circumstances vary by
which bodies are surrounded. Thus, the appar
ent differences between the reactions of the lab
oratory and those of the organism ought to be
sought for, more particularly among the social
conditions, which the latter alone has been able
hitherto to bring together. In other words, there
is really no chemical vital force. If living cells
produce reactions which seem peculiar to them
selves, it is because they realize conditions of
molecular mechanism which we have not hith
erto succeeded in tracing, but which we shall,
without doubt, be able to discover at some future
time. Science can gain nothing by being limited
in the possibility of the aims which she proposes
to herself, or the end which she seeks."

MEMOIR OF SIR BENJAMIN THOMPSON (Count
Rumford), with Notices of his Daugh
ter. By GEORGE E. ELLIS. Published,
in connection with an edition of Rum-
ford s Complete Works, by the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences. Boston.
Pp. 680.

Rumford s Complete Works, vol. I., pp. 493.

Vol. II., pp. 570. Vol. III., pp. 504. Vol.

IV., pp. 842. Price of the set, including

the u Life," $25.00. Boston : Estes

Lauriat.

WE elsewhere publish a brief notice of
the life of Count Rumford so brief as
hardly to give a just idea of the interest
that attaches to the romantic and remark
able story of his career. But few biogra
phies are richer in varied incident, or fuller
of instruction, than this of Rumford ; and its
literary execution, by Mr. Ellis, is well
worthy of the subject. The four volumes
of his works comprise not only all the
Count s essays, formerly published in Eng
lish, but also valuable papers written by
him in French and German which have been
first translated for this edition. The col
lection has been supervised by the Rumford
Committee of the American Academy of
! Sciences, who have grouped together in the
several volumes, as far as was practicable,
i the papers on allied subjects : thus the sci-

LITERARY NOTICES.

247

entific papers will be found chiefly in the
first two volumes ; descriptions of improved
methods of warming and cooking occupy
the third ; and the greater part of the last
is devoted to philanthropic essays ; but this
also contains the scientific papers on light.
The volumes are splendidly illustrated and
elegantly printed. The American Academy
of Sciences could have given no worthier
tribute to the fame of this man than to fur
nish the world with so excellent an edition
of his writings.

LlFE-HlSTORIES OF THE BlRDS OF EASTERN

PENNSYLVANIA. By THOMAS GENTRY.
In Two Volumes. Vol. I. Pp. 400.
Philadelphia : The author.

THIS work is intended to present more
fully than has been done before the habits,
food, migrations, and other characteristics
of the birds of Eastern Pennsylvania.

Especial attention is given to the build
ing of nests ; showing wherein they vary,
and the causes for such variations.

The labor of nidification ; the periods
of incubation, and the part which the male
takes in it ; the age when the young quit
their nests ; the character of the sexes be
fore and after incubation ; and the food, as
insects, seeds, and berries, on which the
birds, old and young, depend, are carefully
considered by the patient and indefatigable
author.

Very much of value is thus added to
our knowledge of bird-life, and what is
specially important to our knowledge of the
instincts and mental constitution and emo
tions of birds.

We look for good results from the labors
of Mr. Gentry. The system of classifica
tion he adopts is the same as that of Dr.
Elliott Coues in his " Key to North Amer
ican Birds."

REPORT OF THE TRUSTEES OF THE HARVARD
MUSEUM OF COMPARATIVE ZOOLOGY.

GIVES an account of all changes and
additions in the various sections of the Mu
seum during 1875. From the report on
instruction in zoology, it appears that dur
ing the year 1874- 75 there were eighteen
students attending the lectures of Prof. Mc-
Crady. A detailed statement is made of
the condition of the Agassiz Memorial
Fund.

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE CIRCULATION IN
PLANTS, IN THE LOWER ANIMALS, AND IN
MAN. By J. BELL PETTIGREW, M. D.,
F. R. S. London and Xew York : Mac-
millan. Pp. 329. Price, $4.

IN this work we have what the Lancet
justly calls " the first serious attempt at a
great generalization on an avowedly diffi
cult subject." The author has undertaken
no less a task than to show that the circu
lation, as it takes place in plants, animals,
and man, is essentially the same in kind ;
differing mainly in the degree of complexity
attained by the organs which carry it on,
and of the resulting movements of the cir
culating fluids.

The book opens with a brief history of
the growth of the subject, from the fanciful
notions held centuries ago by the Chinese
that " the circulation of the vital heat and
radical humors commenced at three o clock
in the morning, reached the lungs in the
course of the day, and terminated in the
liver at the end of twenty-four hours," up
to the exact scientific demonstrations of
Harvey and Malpighi. " The term circula
tion, in the present day," says the author,
" is employed in a double sense. In its
wider signification it embraces the course of
the nutritious juices through plants and the
lower order of animals; in its more limited
signification, and as applied to man and the
higher orders of animated beings, it indi
cates the course of the blood from the heart
to the capillaries, and from these back
again to the heart. The word circulation
literally means & flowing round, a going and
returning ; and it is well to bear the original
meaning in mind, as we shall find that a
single circle aptly represents the circulation
in most of the lower animals, a circle with
one or more accessory loops, representing
the circulation in the higher oues."

The circulation in plants is first de
scribed, the ascent, descent, and lateral dis
tribution of the sap, and the forces which
maintain the flow, being each fully treated.
Many curious resemblances between the cir
culation in plants and that in animals are
pointed out in this section of the work. On
this point the author says : " I now proceed
to a consideration of the circulation as it
exists in animals ; and an attentive exami
nation of the subject not only induces me
to believe that there is a striking analogy

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

between the circulation in animals and
plants, but that in animals devoid of pulsa
tile vessels and hearts it is in some senses
identical, and traceable to the operation of
the same forces."

The subject of the circulation in animals
occupies the bulk of the book, that of the
invertebrates, as being in some sense in
termediate between plants and the higher
animals, being treated first. In a number
of the lowest of these no trace of a circu
lation has yet been detected, the nutritious
fluids in such cases being supposed to pass
from the alimentary canal by interstitial
transudation throughout the entire body, as
the sap passes into the substance of cellular
plants. A step in advance is observed
where, as in the polypi, medusee, etc., the
alimentary canal is of large size and rami
fies in every part of the body, serving at
the same time as a circulatory and aliment
ary apparatus. The next advance is the
appearance of distinct vessels, minus con
tractile power, as in plants. Vessels pos
sessing contractile power, but without any
distinct contractile organ, are next found ;
and afterward the heart appears, increasing
in complexity of structure along with the
related organs, until its highest develop
ment is reached in the mammalia.

On the subject of the forces which give
rise to the circulation in the higher animals,
the author, while admitting that a large
share of the work is done by the heart,
argues at length in favor of the view that
this organ alone is not equal to the task ;
and that other agencies, such as osmosis,
capillary attraction, absorption, chemical
affinity, etc., aid materially in the process.

To the physiological student the book
is exceedingly interesting, not only for the
novel views which it contains, but for the
admirable way in which the author has
presented the leading facts of his subject,
as drawn from the whole range of living
Nature. The print is good, and the illus
trations, of which there are one hundred
and fifty, are also well done.

LECTURES ON SOME RECENT ADVANCES IN
PHYSICAL SCIENCE. By P. G. TAIT, M. A.
Pp. 337. Macraillan & Co. Price, $2.50.

THE disputes that have arisen in various
quarters regarding the honor due to differ
ent investigators for working out the mod

ern doctrines of "Energy" have been par
ticipated in by Prof. Tait, of Edinburgh,
and this volume is probably due to his in
terest in the controversy. He was invited
by a number of his friends to give a course
of lectures on the chief advances made in
natural philosophy since their student-days,
and the author remarks that "the only
special requests made to me were, that I
should treat fully the modern history of
energy, and that I should publish the lect
ures verbatim." The strictly historic part,
however, is by no means the main, or the
most important, feature of the work. It
furnishes its method, but the book is valu
able chiefly as explaining and expounding
the modern doctrines of energy in a manner
at once popular and thorough. No adequate
exposition of these views has yet gained en
trance into our text-books of physics ; and
a work was much needed, by a competent
man, which would present the whole ques
tion in its latest aspects. The volume of
Prof. Tait, though not without its defects,
may be commended as meeting this want
in a tolerably satisfactory manner.

THROUGH AND THROUGH THE TROPICS. By
FRANK VINCENT, Jr. New York : Har
per & Brothers. Pp. 304.

THIRTY thousand miles of travel affords
large opportunity for observations, and to
give an account of them in a book of three
hundred pages seems a hopeless task. Mr.
Vincent, however, has made the attempt in
this racy book, and has succeeded fairly in
presenting a series of descriptions of some
of the more important places visited by
him, and the reader follows him with inter
est to the close. His chapters on the Sand
wich Islands, and on the journey to High
Asia, to the sacred city of the Hindoos, and
to the famous Taj Mahal, are especially full
of interest.

THE EARLY LITERATURE OF CHEMISTR-Y. VI.
By H. C. BOLTON.

THIS sixth part of Dr. Bolton s "Notes
on the Early Literature of Chemistry"
treats of the ancient papyrus-book on medi
cine discovered by Ebers at Thebes, Egypt,
two or three years ago. Dr. Bolton gives the
table of contents of the book with some
selected passages translated out of the hie
ratic original.

LITERARY NOTICES.

249

A TREATISE ON THE DISEASES OF THE NER
VOUS SYSTEM. By WILLIAM A. HAM
MOND, M. D. New York : D. Appleton
& Co. Pp. 883, with 109 Illustrations.
Price, $6.

THE standing of this work may be in
ferred from the fact that it has gone to the
sixth edition, and, having been out of print
a year, reappears rewritten, enlarged, and
much improved. Dr. Hammond has made
the subject of this work a specialty, and
his extensive medical practice in the de
partment of nervous diseases can hardly
fail to give much practical value to his
treatise upon the subject. The work is
written for medical students and the pro
fession, but other people can collect a great
deal of information from it, curious and
valuable, in regard to nervous actions, con
ditions, and disorders.

In his preface Dr. Hammond says : " One
feature I may, however, with justice claim
for this work, and that is, that it rests to a
great extent on my own observation and ex
perience, and is, therefore, no mere compi
lation. The reader will readily perceive that
I have views of my own on every disease
considered, and that I have not hesitated to
express them." Obviously, the great ob
scurity and unsettledness of our knowledge,
both of the physiology and pathology of
the nervous system, offer a strong tempta
tion to confident minds to form and pro
mulgate positive opinions concerning them,
but the same causes should enforce caution
upon the student in their acceptance.

PAINTERS MAGAZINE. Monthly, pp. 40. A.
G-. Sullivan, Editor and Publisher.

THE eighth number of the second annual
volume has just been published, and pre
sents to its readers an excellent and varied
table of contents, besides some useful illus
trations for the practical painter, artist, etc.
The contributions are from some of the
best writers of the day upon the various
branches of painting. This magazine must
be useful not only to the painter, but also
to the architect and builder. That a better
idea may be had, we give the headings of
leading articles, viz. : House-Painting ; In
terior or Mural Decoration; Pigment and
Color; Hints on Drawing; Answers to
Correspondents ; Railway-Car Painting, etc.
Price, $1.50 per annum.

MAGNETISM AND ELECTRICITY. By F. GUTH-
RIE. New York : Putnams. Price, $1.50.

IN this little volume, Prof. Guthrie, of the
Royal School of Mines, London, presents to
the general student of magnetism and elec
tricity a very full compendium of that sci
ence. In directness of statement and clear
ness of expression this treatise is deserving
of very high praise, and these qualities it
doubtless owes to the circumstance that it is
based upon the notes of the lectures deliv-
ered by the author for many years to min
ing students and science-teachers. " The
work is illustrated with over 300 woodcuts.

NOTES ON BUILDING CONSTRUCTION. For
sale by Lippiucott, Philadelphia.

THIS is the first of a series of three vol
umes, intended to assist pupils who are pre
paring for the examinations in building
construction held annually under the direc
tion of the Science and Art Department of
the British Government. This first part
treats of the points laid down as necessary
for the examination in the elementary
course. The subjects discussed are : Wall
ing and arches ; brickwork ; masonry ; car
pentry ; floors ; partitions ; timber roofs ;
iron roofs ; slating ; plumbing ; cast-iron
girders ; joinery.

LEGAL CHEMISTRY. By A. NAQUET. Pp.

178. Price, $2. New York : Van Nos-

trand.

THE title of this work sufficiently indi
cates its purport, namely, the solution oi
chemical problems arising in the adminis
tration of justice. As a matter of course,
the subject of the detection of poisons re
ceives the most attention ; but the author
also describes the processes to be adopted
for examining sundry alimentary and phar
maceutical substances, for examining writ
ten documents, blood-stains, etc. The trans
lator of the work, Dr. J. P. Battershall, ap
pends a list of- books and memoirs on the
subject of toxicology and the allied branches.

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS OF THE DINOCERATA.

By Prof. 0. C. MARSH.

THIS is a reprint from the American
Journal of Science and Art. Besides the
letter-press, the paper contains six litho
graphic plates giving views of the skull, den
tition, jaw, feet, etc., of Dinocerata.

250

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

PUBLICATIONS EECEIVED.

Structure and Relation of Dinichthys.
By J. S. Newberry. Pp. 64. With Plates.
Columbus, Ohio : Nevins & Myers.

Chemistry, Practical and Analytical.
Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Philadelphia: Lippin-
cott & Co.

Report on Vienna Bread. By E. N.
Horsford. Pp. 130. Washington : Gov
ernment Printing-Office.

Worcester Lyceum and Natural History
Association. By N. Payne. Pp. 13.

Land and Fresh-Water Mollusca found
in the vicinity of Cinciunati. Pp. 5.

Man : Palaeolithic, Neolithic, etc., not in
consistent with Scripture. By Nemo. Dub
lin : Hodges, Foster & Co. Pp.137. Price,
five shillings.

Bulletin of the United States Geological
and Geographical Survey of the Territories.
Vol. II., Nos. 1 and 2. Washington : Gov
ernment Printing-Office. Pp. 90 and 100.

Bulletin of the Bussey Institution. Part
5. Pp. 95

Roads, Streets, and Pavements. By
Brevet Major-Genoral Gillmore. Pp. 258.
New York : Van Nostrand. Price, $2.

American Catholic Quarterly Review.
Vol. I., No. 2. Pp. 190. Philadelphia :
Hardy & Mahony. Price, $5 per annum.

Tansactions of the Kansas Academy of
Science. Vol. IV., pp. 64. Topeka : G. W.
Martin, Printer.

Geological Survey of Ohio. Paleontolo
gy, Vol. II., pp.432, with numerous Plates ;
Geology, Vol. II., pp. 700, with Maps. Co
lumbus : Nevins & Myers, State Printers.

Physics and Hydraulics of the Missis
sippi River. By J. B. Eads, C. E. Pp. 33.
New Orleans : Picayune Print.

The Drift of Devon and Cornwall. By
T. Belt, F. G. S. Pp.11.

Urinary Calculus. By W. F. Westmore
land, M. D. Pp. 11. Atlanta, Georgia:
Dunlop, Wynne & Co.

The " One-Rail " Railroad. By C. J.
Quetil. New York : Cheap Transportation
Association.

List of Skeletons and Crania in the Ar
my Medical Museum, Washington. Pp. 52.

The Opium-Habit. By S. E. Chaille, M.

D. Pp. 9. From the New Orleans Medical
and Surgical Journal. Also, Climatother-
apy of Consumption. Same author. Pp. 16.

Michigan State Board of Health Report,
1875. Pp. 170.

Transcendentalism. By Theodore Par
ker. Boston : Free Religious Association.
Pp. 39. Price, 10 cents.

Mechanical Construction of Water, By
Captain J. E. Cole. Pp. 27. New York :

E. O Keefe, Printer.

Hospitals for the Sick and Insane. Pp.
54. Albany : Weed, Parsons & Co.

Deed of Trust of James Lick. Pp. 24.

New Orleans Price Current, 1876. Pp.
89.

MISCELLANY.

A Moth that bores for its Food. The

order of Lepidoptera, which includes moths
and butterflies, is almost universally char
acterized as possessing a flexible trunk,
by means of which the insects suck up
the nectar of flowers. Indeed, the pos
session of a flexible trunk is commonly re
garded as one of the distinguishing char
acteristics of this order.- A few years ago,
however, a French botanist, M. Thozet, then
residing in Australia, discovered a moth
(Ophideres fullonica) which possessed a
trunk so rigid as to be able to pierce the rinds
of oranges and suck their juice. Another
Australian observer having since called at
tention to the depredations of this moth, M.
J. Kiinckel was led to examine the trunks of
Ophideres which had been sent to him from
Australia by M. Thozet. This trunk he de
clares to be a perfect instrument, and says
that it would be an excellent model for the
making of new tools to be employed in
boring holes in various materials. It re
sembles the barbed lance, the gimlet, and
the rasp, and hence can pierce, bore, and
tear, at the same time allowing liquids to
pass without impediment by the internal
canal. The two applied maxillae constitut
ing the organ terminate in a sharp triangu-

MISCELLANY.

251

lar point, furnished with two barbs ; then
they become enlarged, and present on the
lower surface three portions of the thread
of a screw, while their sides and their up
per surface are covered with short, strong
spines, projecting from the centre of a de
pression with hard and abrupt margins.
The purpose of these spines is to tear the
cells of the orange-pulp, as the rasp serves
to open the cells of the beet-root, in order
to extract sugar. The upper region of the
trunk is covered below and on the sides
with fine, close-set striae, arranged in half-
screws, which give it the properties of a
file; the striae are interrupted here and
there by small spines of soft consistence,
which serve for the perception of tactile
sensations. The orifice of the canal is situ
ated in the lower surface, below the first
screw-third. All this will be seen better
from the annexed figures :

TRUNK OF OpJiideres fullonica A, in Profile; B,
from below ; <?, from above ; I, Interior Canal ;
o, Orifice of the Canal.

On investigation, M. Kiinckel has found
that all the species of the genus Ophidcrcs
possess a similar terebrant trunk. This
circumstance establishes a closer relation
ship between the Lepidoptcra, the Hcmip-
tera, and certain Diptera in which the max
illae are adapted to pierce tissues.

As we learn from Prof. A. R. Grote, the
group of Noctuldce to which Ophideres be
longs, called by Borkhausen Fasciatce, is
represented by only a few forms in Europe,
but it is largely developed in the tropics of
both hemispheres. The peculiar structure
of the maxillee observed in Ophideres has

not been found in any of the North Amer
ican genera o f the group. In the genus
Catocata, which is largely represented in
North America, the spiral tongue or trunk
is simply furnished with lateral papillae, ap
pearing like serratures, toward the extrem
ity of the trunk.

( mining of the Adder, A correspond
ent of the Milwaukee Sentinel confirms Mr.
Lewis s observations on the cunning of the
adder (in the February number of the
MONTHLY). This correspondent states that,
over thirty years ago, in Leeds, Greene
County, New York, his attention was one
day attracted by the plaintive cry of a cat.
Looking into a garden, an adder was seen
near the cat. The cat seemed to be com
pletely paralyzed by fear of the adder ; she
kept up the plaintive cry, as if in great dis
tress, but did not take her eye off the ser
pent, or make any attempt to attack or es
cape. Soon the snake saw that human
eyes were observing him, and he com
menced to crawl slowly away. "I then,"
continues the writer of the narrative, " con
cluded to release the cat from its trouble.
I took a garden-rake and put it on the
snake s back, and held it without hurting it.
As soon as I had the snake fast in this po
sition, it raised its head, flattened it out, .and
blew, making a hissing noise, and something
resembling breath or steam came from its
mouth. When that was exhausted I re
moved the rake, and the adder turned over
on its back, lying as if dead. With the
rake I turned it over on its belly again, but
it immediately turned on its back. This
was repeated several times. At last it was
taken out of the garden, laid in the road,
and we all retired to watch its movements.
It commenced to raise and turn its head
slowly (looking about the while), until en
tirely on its belly, and started at full speed
for a little pool of water in the road, frora
which it was raked out and dispatched."

Measurio? Distances by Sonnd. The

Prussian correspondent of the London
Times makes mention of an instrument de
vised by Major Le Boulanger, of the Bel
gian Artillery, which, with great accuracy,
indicates the distance between two armies
from the report of their guns. The mo-

2 5 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ment the enemy fires a shot, the action of
the report upon the "telemeter" marks
the distance to a fraction. The instrument
is entirely self-acting, easily kept in order,
and requires no particular experience or
intricate calculations to use it aright. The
experiments to which it has been subjected
in Prussia and in some other countries are
stated to have been completely successful
as regards cannon. Experiments in the
rifle-grounds are still going on. Even
should the invention be confined to artil
lery, its effect must be tremendous, consid
ering the present deadly efficiency of fire
arms. One of its principal advantages, it
is supposed, will be to enable gunners in a
coast-battery to determine the position of
a hostile ship a calculation hitherto fraught
with special difficulty.

Sir John Lnbbock on the Habits of Ants.

Sir John Lubbock still continues his ob
servations of ants, and at a recent meeting
of the Linnean Society of London read a
paper in which he treated 1. Of the power
of intercommunication among ants ; 2.
Their organs of sense; 3. Their affection
or regard for one another. The results are
chiefly negative, contradicting many gen
erally-received opinions. To test the ants
power of communicating information to one
another, the author had a glass box for the
"nest," so that he could watch what was
done inside. This was placed on a pole.
On the other side of the pole was a board
intended as a promenade for the ants. Near
to this were three pieces of glass, connected
with the board by strips of paper. On one
of the pieces of glass was placed a collec
tion of food, and on the other two there
was nothing. Two ants were taken and
marked with spots of color, as in former
observations, so that they should be readily
recognized. These were both taken, one
after the other, to the store of food, and
were guided and taught their way to the
nest. They soon learned their way to and
from the nest to the food-supply, coming
out of the door along the outside to the
pole, around that, across the board, along
the paper bridge, and so to the glass that
supported the food, and so back again to
the nest. Sir John Lubbock s object was
to watch whether the other ants in the nest

would -find out the food, and, if so, to test
as far as possible whether they found it
from information given, or whether they
tracked the scent. He devoted certain pe
riods to watching the movements of the
ants, counting the number of journeys made
by his marked ants, and also recording how
many untaught strangers made their way
from the board along the right bridge to
the food. At his first period of observation
he found that, while his marked ants made
forty journeys with food, nineteen strangers
also came on to the bridges. Of these, two
only turned to the food, eight turned to the
wrong bridge, and the rest went straight
on. Modifications in the arrangements of
the bridges were made in different ways,
while the rest of the construction was left
unaltered. The observations made on dif
ferent days and during periods of different
duration all showed the same result.

In referring to the organs of sense, Sir
John had endeavored to ascertain whether
the antennae are organs of hearing or of
smell. He had tried them with all sorts of
noises he could contrive, and found no re
sults. If ants have hearing, they must be
sensible to those vibrations of the air which
do not affect the human ear. But he had
also tried the antennae with smells, and he
found that if he put a fine earners-hair
pencil with a scent on it near one of them
it shrank away, and then, if applied to the
other, that also turned away. The use of
the antennae, however, still needs inves
tigation, and Sir John hopes soon to make
further observations. As regards their af
fection for one another, he does not doubt
that an ant that dies ladeu with food will
be cared for by its companions ; but he
brought forward a number of instances in
which he had put ants that had suffered
immersion in water for periods of from an
hour to ten hours in the way of ants that
were passing by, and he found almost inva
riably that they took no notice of their un
fortunate brethren. Indeed, the exceptions
in which any attention was paid were so
few that Sir John said he was disposed to
regard these as ants with individual feel-
ings, which were by no means those com
mon to the community. It is understood
that the results of Sir John Lubbock s long-
continued researches into the habits of bees

MISCELLANY.

253

and ants will be given to the public before
long in a volume of the "International
Scientific Series."

Sea - Soundings without a Line. Dr.

Siemens exhibited, at a recent meeting
of the London Royal Society, an instrument
devised by himself for ascertaining the
depth of the sea. In explaining the prin
ciple of this instrument, Mr. Siemens ob
served that the total gravitation of the
earth, as measured on its normal surface,
is composed of the separate attractions of
its parts, and that the attractive influence
of each equal volume varies directly as its
density and inversely as the square of its
distance from the point cf measurement.
The density of sea-water being about 1.026,
and that of the solid constituents compos
ing the earth s crust about 2.763, it follows
that an intervening depth of sea-water must
exercise a sensible influence upon total
gravitation if measured on the surface of
the tea. His instrument, which he calls a
bathometer, is described in the London
Times as consisting "essentially of a ver
tical column of mercury, contained in a
steel tube having cup-like extensions at
both extremities, so as to increase the ter
minal area of the mercury. The lower cup
is closed by means of a corrugated dia
phragm of thin steel plate, and the weight
of the column of mercury is balanced in
the centre of the diaphragm by the elastic
force derived from two carefully-tempered
spiral steel springs of the same length as
the mercury-column. One of the peculiar
ities of this mechanical arrangement is,
that it is parathermal, the diminishing elas
tic force of the springs with rise of tem
perature being compensated by a similar
decrease of potential of the mercury-col
umn, which decrease depends upon the
proportions given to the areas of the steel
tube and its cup-like extension*."

The instrument is suspended in such a
manner as to retain the vertical position,
notwithstanding the motion of the ship,
and the vertical oscillations of the mercury
are almost entirely prevented by a local
contraction of the mercury-column to a very
small orifice. The reading of the instru
ment is effected by means of electrical con
tact, which is established between the end

of a micrometer-screw and the centre of
the elastic diaphragm. The pitch of the
screw and the divisions in the rim are so
proportioned that each division represents
the diminution of gravity due to one fathom
of depth. Actual experiment has shown
the apparatus to be very reliable.

Formation of Mountain - Chains. This

subject is considered by Prof. Joseph Le
Conte in the April number of the American
Journal of Science, in which interesting
facts are presented, the results of obser
vations made by the author in the Coast
Range of California. He finds that the
actual length of the folded strata is about
two and a half to three times the horizon
tal distance through the mountains. It
thus appears that from fifteen to eighteen
miles of strata, that is, of original sea-
bottom, has been crushed or mashed into
six miles, with " corresponding up-swelling
of the whole mass."

This diminution of distance, according
to the theory of Prof. Le Conte, has not
arisen from folding of the strata, but by
mashing of them by horizontal pressure.

From the flattened and elongated form
of little nodules of clay found in some of
the strata, he concludes that their elonga
tion vertically exactly correlates their short
ening horizontally, and that the one is to
the other as two and a half or three is to
one. It thus appears that in the compres
sion of the beds their constituent particles
underwent a change of form corresponding
with the conditions of the pressure.

These clay pellets or nodules are sup
posed to have been formed on the bottom
of gently-flowing streams, are a part of the
original sedimentary beds, and are the same
in character as those which form greenish
spots in slate, as described by Prof. Tyn-
dall.

It will be seen that, in accounting for
the elevation of mountain-chains, Prof. Le
Conte differs from Prof. Dana in this : that
waile they agree that mountain-chains are
formed by yielding of the earth s crust,
Prof. Dana attaches importance chiefly to
the bending and plication of it, Prof. Le
Conte to the crushing of it. He says, " I
am satisfied that Prof. Dana greatly under
estimates the amount of elevation by sim
ple mashing as compared with folding."

254

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Brain- Weight and Mental Power. Great

weight of brain is commonly regarded as
evidence of great cerebral power. That
this conclusion, however, is erroneous, is
shown by Dr. Kobert Lawson, who, in the
Lancet, compares the brain-weights of some
of the great men of modern times with the
brain- weights of lunatics who died in the
West Riding Asylum. He gives the follow
ing instructive table :

Ounces. Ounces.

Brain -weight of Dr. Chalmers . . , . 53 Lunatic 58

Daniel Webster.. 53.5 " 58

" Sir J. Y. Simpson 54 " 5S.5

" Goodsir 57.5 " 59.5

" Abercrombie 63 " 60.5

" Cuvier 64 " 61

It will be observed that only Abercrombie
and Cuvier surpass in weight of brain the
inmates of the asylum. One of these lu
natics, he whose brain weighed 61 ounces,
was seventy-one years of age when he died ;
when he was forty-five, his brain probably
weighed not less than 64 ounces, thus equal
ing in weight the brain of the great Cuvier,
and exceeding that of Daniel Webster by
20 per cent. From all this it follows that
great weight of brain is not in itself a con
clusive evidence of great intellect.

From this comparison of brain-weights,
Dr. Lawson passes to the consideration of
the relations between geuius and insanity.
"Every day," he says, "the observation of
the poet, that great wit is nearly allied to
madness, gains a wider and more practical
acceptance. So much is this the case that
Dr. Wilks ventures to make the statement
that it is probably the insane element which
imparts what we call genius to the human
race, the true celestial fire. And though it
is fearful to think of the propagation of a
race tainted with insanity, yet it does not
follow that an infusion of the insane blood
may not be desirable. Dr. Maudsley holds
the same opinion."

Preservation of Zoological Specimens.

Last summer, Profs. Yerrill and Rice, of Yale
College, made a number of experiments to
ascertain the effects of various chemical
preparations upon marine invertebrates, the
objects being to improve existing methods
of preserving specimens and to ascertain
the best means of killing in an expanded
state species which ordinarily contract very
much when put directly into alcohol. The

results are given in the American Journal of
Science, by Prof. Verrill, who says that sev
eral very fine preparations of Actinia in
a state of nearly perfect expansion were
made by slowly adding a concentrated solu
tion of picric acid to a small quantity of sea-
water in which they had been allowed to ex
pand. When fairly dead, they were trans
ferred to a pure saturated solution of the
acid, and allowed to remain from one to
three hours. They were then placed in
alcohol for permanent preservation. The
alcohol should be renewed after a day or
two, and this should be repeated until all
the water has been absorbed from the speci
men. Hydroids and most kinds of jelly-fish
es can be easily preserved in the same way.
Even delicate Ctenophorce can be thus pre
served so as to make fair specimens. The
experiments were made with the view of
finding some poison that will kill mollusks,
especially gasteropods, in a fully-extended
state, but the results were negative ; at
least no method was discovered that is
more generally successful than that of al
lowing them to suffocate in stale sea-water,
through excess of carbonic acid and de
ficiency of oxygen.

Improvement of the Steam-Enginc. In

giving testimony before the Government Com
missioners on the Advancement of Science in
Great Britain, Mr. Anderson, superintendent
of machinery at Woolwich, spoke of Joule s
experiments on the conservation of energy
as of immense value and as being an exam
ple of what government should do for the
common good. Joule had made engineers
thoroughly dissatisfied with their present
knowledge as to what they can do with
steam. " I believe," he continued, " that
what Joule did will do more for this coun
try than even what James Watt did. The
part that James Watt took was very great,
and the world gives him full credit for it ;
but the world is scarcely willing to give
credit to Joule. Engineers know that the
best steam-engine is not doing one-sixth of
the work which it ought to do and can do.
That is a sad state of matters to be in when
we know that we are so far wrong, but yet
no one will go to the trouble of going to the
end of the question so as to improve the
steam-engine as it might be done."

NOTES.

Underground Forests in the Thames Val
ley. An interesting geological discovery,
as we learn from Nature, was recently made
during excavations for a new tidal basin at
the Surrey Commercial Docks, London.
On penetrating some six feet below the sur
face, the workmen everywhere came across
a subterranean forest-bed, consisting of
peat with trunks of trees, for the most part
still standing erect. All are of species still
inhabiting Britain ; the oak, alder, and wil
low, are apparently most abundant. The
trees are not mineralized, but retain their
vegetable character, except that they are
thoroughly saturated with water. In the
peat are found bones of the great fossil ox.
Fresh-water shells are also found. No doubt
is entertained that the bed thus exposed is
a continuation of the old buried forest which
has been brought to light at various other
localities on both sides of the Thames. In
each case the forest-bed is found buried be
neath the marsh-clay, showing that the land
has sunk below the tidal level since the for
est flourished.

The Meditation of Infants. From ex
periments made by Dr. Lewald it appears
that sundry medicines are most advanta
geously introduced into the system of .an
infant through the mother s milk. Thus of
iron a larger quantity can be administered
to the infant in this way than by any other
means. Bismuth, however, is eliminated in
the milk only in very small quantity. Iodine
does not appear in the milk until ninety-six
hours after taking it ; iodide of potassium
appears four hours after ingestion, and
continues to be eliminated for eleven days.
Arsenic appears in the milk at the end of
seventeen hours, and continues for at least
forty hours. Oxide of zinc, though one of
the most insoluble preparations, is elimi
nated by the milk ; it disappears sooner than
iron. The elimination of antimony is an
undeniable fact, and it is well to bear this
in mind during the period of nursing ; the
same holds true in regard to mercurial prep
arations. That alcohol and narcotics are
eliminated by the milk has not been demon
strated. Sulphate of quinine is eliminated
very easily, and a child suffering from inter
mittent fever was cured by administering
quinine to the nurse.

NOTES.

THE printing-press at which Benjamin
Franklin worked in London will be exhib-.
ited at Philadelphia. This press was at
one time the property of Harrild & Sous,
of London, but in 1841 they allowed it to
be forwarded to Philadelphia. By way of
acknowledgment, a sum of money was to
be handed over to the Printers Pension
Corporation, for the purpose of founding a
pension for an aged printer. This has nev
er been done, and hence Franklin s press
by right belongs to Messrs. Harrild, and
should appear at the Centennial Exhibition
as an English and not an American exhibit.

IN the "Annual of Natural Science," of
Wurtemberg, Otto Hahn has an elaborate
review of the Eozoon Canadense question.
This article, which is very long, is published
in the Annals and Magazine of Natural His
tory, for April. The author, after an ex
amination of the geological, the mineralogi-
cal, and the zoological facts, pronounces the
so-called eozoon structures to be purely
mineral in their origin.

IN replying to Tyndall, Dr. Bastian cites
a number of investigators as supporting his
views on biogenesis. Among the authori
ties thus quoted are E. Ray Lankester and
Dr. Pode ; but the former of these two gen
tlemen now writes to Nature, saying that
their (i. e., Lankester s and Pode s) results
" conclusively and categorically contradict
the particular assertions contained in Dr.
Bastian s book, The Beginnings of Life,
into the truth of which they set themselves
to inquire."

SPECIMENS of paper and cardboard made
from peat were recently presented to the
Berlin Polytechnic Association by Herr
Veyt-Meyer. The paper and cardboard
were very firm, and the latter was so thick
that it might be planed and polished. Pa
per made of peat alone is like that made
from wood or straw; but only fifteen per
cent, of rags is needed to give it consistence.
A large factory for the manufacture of peat
paper is to be established in Prussia.

IN order to act intelligently against the
cotton-worm, Southern planters are advised
by Prof. A. R. Grote to act in concert. He
further recommends that, whatever agent is
employed to destroy the worm, be used
against the first brood that appears in the
locality, so as to prevent its spreading far
ther. It is highly desirable that the life-
history and habits of such insect-pests
should be thoroughly studied, with a view to
their extermination.

PROF. BENJAMIN SILLIMAN, of Yale Col
lege, has patented a process for giving reso-

2 5 6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

nance to sundry alloys, such as britannia
metal, pewter, etc., which commonly give
only a dull sound when struck. According
to the Engineering and Mining Journal, the
process consists in submitting articles made
of these alloys to the action of a certain
degree of temperature, just below their
melting-point, for a short time, in a bath of
oil or paraffine. The theory of the process
appears to turn upon a rearrangement, per
haps a crystallization, of the molecules.

THE Phylloxera Commission, appointed
by the Paris Academy of Science, to award
the Government prize of 300,000 francs for
the discovery of an effectual means of de
stroying the Phylloxera, has reported that
none of the specifics submitted to them, are
entitled to the prize.

DR. EWALD records, in Reicherfs A rchiv,
an instance of the production of a hydro
carbon gas in the stomach of a man suffer
ing from chronic gastritis. The man, one
day, while lighting a cigar, was surprised to
see his breath take fire, and burn with a
yellow flame. Dr. Ewald afterward analyzed
some of this gas, and found it to consist of
hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, carbonic acid,
and a considerable portion (about ten per
cent.) of marsh gas.

ABOUT ten per cent, of the Cape dia
monds are of first quality, fifteen per cent,
of second, twenty of third. The remain
der are employed for cutting diamonds, and
for the numerous applications of this gem
in the arts. It is estimated that the value
of the diamonds found at the Cape from
March, 1867, to the present time exceeds
12,000,000.

DR. RICHARDSON, of London, cites the
high death-rate of innkeepers, publicans,
and the like, as evidence of the fatal effects
of intoxicating drink. In London the mor
tality of all males is 2.012 per cent, annu
ally ; that of publicans, 3.466 per cent. In
England, exclusive of London, the mortality
of all males is 1.182 per cent, annually; of
publicans 3.163 per cent. It is a striking
fact that the death-rate in this class is high
er than in any other class of male occupa
tions named in the census, save one the
hackney-coach man.

SALICYLIC acid has been used with good
results in Germany, in the treatment of re
cent superficial gangrenous sores, the method
being to apply a thin layer of powdered
salicylic acid on the surface of the sore,
covering it then with wadding.

EXPERIMENTS lately made in France show
that air laden with coal-dust is highly ex
plosive. Several cases of explosion in coal
mines have been traced to the action of sus
pended coal-dust when no fire-damp was
prsent.

THE practice of scalping is not peculiar
to the American aborigines. Southall, in
his " Recent Origin of Man," quotes from
Herodotus to show that the Scythians used
to scalp their fallen enemies. In the pres
ent time the wild tribes of Northeastern
Bengal use the scalping-knife.

AN expedition under the leadership of
Prof. Nordenskiold will start next summer
to explore a commercial route from North
ern Russia to Behring Strait. Funds have
also been contributed toward the cost of
another expedition to explore the gulf of
Obi and the sea-route between Archangel
and the great rivers of Siberia.

EDMUND A. PARKES, M. D., F. R. S., Pro
fessor of Military Hygiene in the Army Medi
cal School at Netley, England, died March
15th, at the age of fifty-six years. During
the Crimean War he was selected by Govern
ment to organize and conduct a hospital,
and on his return to England was appointed
to the chair of Hygiene at Netley. His
annual contributions on hygiene were for
many years, perhaps the most valuable feat
ure of the blue-books of the War Depart
ment. He was a very successful teacher,
and a frequent contributor to the medical
press, and to the " Transactions " ofscientific
bodies. His " Manual of Practical Hygiene "
has reached a fourth edition.

DIED, March 29th, Dr. Henry Letheby,
for many years lecturer on chemistry and
toxicology in the London Hospital, and
chemical analyst of the city of London. He
was the author of a number of papers on
sanitary and chemical subjects, published in
sundry medical journals. His work on
"Food" was republished in this country
three years ago. At the time of his death
he was sixty years of age.

NEARLY all the amber of commerce cornea
from Eastern Prussia, where it is obtained
by dredging the bottom of the sea just off
the coast. It was recently discovered that
amber occurs jn a deposit called the " blue
earth." It has been supposed that this
deposit extends for some distance inland,
and a shaft was recently sunk to determine
this point. At the depth of 140 feet there
was found a stratum of " blue earth " with
out amber and two feet in thickness ; then
came another stratum five feet thick, which
was rich in amber.

THERE are few who do not remember the
childish wonder they once felt at hearing
the resonance produced by placing a sea-
shell to the ear, an effect which fancy has
likened to "the roar of the sea." This is
caused by the hollow form of the shell and
its polished surface, enabling it to receive
and return the beatings of all sounds that
chance to be trembling in the air. Public
Opinion.

ALEXANDER BAIN.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY,

JULY, 1876.
THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 1

BY WILLIAM CEOOKES, F. E. S.

TO generate motion has been found a characteristic common, with
one exception, to all the phases of physical force. We hold the
bulb of a thermometer in our hands, and the mercury expands in bulk,
and, rising along the scale, indicates the increase of heat it has re
ceived. We heat water, and it is converted into steam, and moves
our machinery, our carriages, and our iron-clads. We bring a load
stone near a number of iron-filings, and they move toward it, arrang
ing themselves in peculiar and intricate lines ; or we bring a piece of
iron near a magnetic needle, and we find it turned away from its ordi
nary position. We rub a piece of glass with silk, thus throwing it
into a state of electrical excitement, and we find that bits of paper or
thread fly toward it, and are, in a few moments, repelled again. If
we remove the supports from a mass of matter it falls, the influence
of gravitation being here most plainly expressed in motion, as shown
in clocks and water-mills. If we fix pieces of paper upon a stretched
string, and then sound a musical note near it, we find certain of the
papers projected from their places. Latterly the so-called " sensitive
flames," which are violently agitated by certain musical notes, have
become well known as instances of the conversion of sound into motion.
How readily chemical force undergoes the same transformation is
manifested in such catastrophes as those of Bremerhaven, in the
recent deplorable coal-mine explosions, and indeed in every discharge
of a gun.

But light, in some respects the highest of the powers of Nature,
has not been hitherto found capable of direct conversion into motion,
and such an exception cannot but be regarded as a singular anomaly.

This anomaly the researches which I am about to bring before you

1 A lecture delivered at the Royal Institution.

TOL. IX. 17

258 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

have now removed ; and, like the other forms of force, light is found
to be capable of direct conversion into motion, and of being like
heat, electricity, magnetism, sound, gravitation, and chemical action
most delicately and accurately measured by the amount of motion
thus produced.

My research arose from the study of an anomaly.

It is well known to scientific men that bodies appear to weigh less
when they are hot than when they are cold ; the explanation given
being that the ascending currents of hot air buoy up the body, so to
speak. Wishing to get rid of this and other interfering actions of the
air during a research on the atomic weight of thallium, I had a balance
constructed in which I could weigh in a vacuum. I still, indeed,
found my apparatus less heavy when hot than when cold. The obvi
ous explanations were evidently not the true ones ; obvious explana
tions seldom are true ones, for simplicity is not a characteristic of
Nature.

An unknown disturbing cause was interfering, and the endeavor
to find the clew to the apparent anomaly has led to the discovery of
the mechanical action of light.

I was long troubled by the apparent lawlessness of the actions I
obtained. By gradually increasing the delicacy of my apparatus I
could easily get certain results of motion when hot bodies were
brought near them, but sometimes it was one of attraction, at others
of repulsion, while occasionally no movement whatever was produced.

I will try to reproduce these phenomena in this apparatus (Fig. 1).
Here are two glass bulbs, each containing a bar of pith about three
inches long and half an inch thick, suspended horizontally by a
long fibre of cocoon silk. I bring a hot glass rod, or a candle, toward
one of them, and you see that the pith is gradually attracted, follow
ing the candle as I move it round the bulb. That seems a very defi
nite fact ; but look at the action in the other bulb. I bring the candle,
or a hot glass rod, near the other bar of pith, and it is strongly re
pelled by it, much more strongly than it was attracted in the first
instance.

Here, again, is a third fact. I bring a piece of ice near the pith-bar
which has just been repelled by the hot rod, and it is attracted, and
follows the rod round as a magnetic needle follows a piece of iron.

The repulsion by radiation is the key-note of these researches.
The movement of a small bar of pith is not very distinct, except to
those near, and, I wish to make this repulsion evident to all. I have
therefore arranged a piece of apparatus by which it can be seen by all
present. I will, by means of the electric light, project an image of a
pendulum suspended in vacuo on the screen. You see that the ap
proach of a candle gives the bob a veritable push, and, by alternately
obscuring and uncovering the light, I can make the pendulum beat
time to my movements.

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT.

259

What, then, is the cause of the contradictory action in these two
bulbs attraction in one, and repulsion in the other ? It can be ex
plained in a few words. Attraction takes place when air is present,
and repulsion when air is absent.

Neutrality, or no movement, is produced when the vacuum is insuf
ficient. A minute trace of air in the
apparatus interferes most materially
with the repulsion, and for a long
time I was unaware of the powerful
action produced by radiation in a
" perfect " vacuum.

It is not at first sight obvious
how ice or a cold body can produce
the opposite effect to heat. The law
of exchanges, however, explains this

FIG. I.

FIG. 2.

perfectly. The pith-bar and the whole of the surrounding bodies are
incessantly exchanging heat-rays ; and under ordinary circumstances
the income and expenditure of heat are in equilibrium. Let me draw
your attention to the diagram (Fig. 2), illustrating what takes place
when I bring a piece of ice near the apparatus. The centre circle
represents my piece of pith ; the arrows show the influx and efflux of
heat. A piece of ice brought near cuts off the influx of heat from one
side, and therefore allows an excess of heat to fall on the pith from
the opposite side. Attraction by a cold body is therefore seen to be
only repulsion by the radiation from the opposite side of the room.

The later developments of this research have demanded the
utmost refinement of apparatus. Everything has to be conducted in
glass vessels, and these must be blown together till they make one
piece, for none but fused joints are admissible. In an investigation
depending for its successful prosecution on manipulative dexterity, I
have been fortunate in having the assistance of my friend Mr. Charles
Gimingham. All the apparatus you see before you are the fruits of
his skillful manipulation, and I now want to draw your attention to

2 6o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

what I think is a masterpiece of glass-working the pump which en
ables me so readily to produce a vacuum unattainable by ordinary
means.

The pump here at work is a modification of the Sprengel pump,
but it contains two or three valuable improvements. I cannot at
tempt to describe the whole of the arrangements, but I will rapidly
run over them as illuminated by the electric light. It has a triple-
fall tube in which the mercury is carried down, thus exhausting with
threefold rapidity; it has Dr. McLeod s beautiful arrangement for
measuring the residual gas ; it has gauges in all directions, and a
small radiometer attached to it to tell the amount of exhaustion that
I get in any experiments ; it has a contrivance for admitting oil of
vitriol into the tubes without interfering with the progress of the
exhaustion, and it is provided with a whole series of most ingenious
vacuum-taps devised by Mr. Gimingham. The exhaustion produced
in this pump is such that a current of electricity from an induction-
coil will not pass across the vacuum. This pump is now exhausting
a torsion-balance, which will be described presently. Another pump,
of a similar kind but less complicated, is exhausting an apparatus
which has enaWed me to pass from the mere exhibition of the phe
nomena to the obtaining of quantitative measurements.

A certain amount of force is exerted when a ray of light or heat
falls on the suspended pith, and I wished to ascertain

1. What were the actual rays invisible heat, luminous, or ultra
violet which caused this action ?

2. What influence had the color of the surface on the action ?

3. Was the amount of action in direct proportion to the amount
of radiation ?

4. What was the amount of force exerted by radiation ?

I required an apparatus which would be easily moved by the im
pact of light on it, but which would readily return to zero, so that
measurements might be obtained of the force exerted when different
amounts of light acted on it. At first I made an apparatus on the
principle of Zollner s horizontal pendulum. For a reason that will be
explained presently, I am unable to show you the apparatus at work,
but the principle of it is shown in the diagram (Fig. 3). The pendu
lum represented by this horizontal line has a weight at the end. It is
supported on two fibres of glass, one stretched upward and the other
stretched downward, both firmly fastened at the ends, and also at
tached to the horizontal rod (as shown in the figure) at points near
together, but not quite opposite to one another.

It is evident that if there is a certain amount of pull upon each of
these fibres, and that the pull can be so adjusted as to counteract the
weight at the end and keep it horizontal, the nearer the beam ap
proaches the horizontal line the slower its rate of oscillation. If I
relax the tension, by throwing the horizontal beam downward, I get a

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 261

more rapid oscillation sideways. If I turn the leveling-screw so as
to raise the beam and weight, the nearer it approaches the horizontal
position the slower the oscillation becomes, and the more delicate is
the instrument. Here is the actual apparatus that I tried to work
with. The weight at the end is a piece* of pith ; in the centre is a
glass mirror, on which to throw a ray of light, so as to enable me to
see the movements by a luminous index. The instrument, inclosed in
glass and exhausted of air, was mounted on a stand with leveling-
screws, and with it I tried the action of a ray of light falling on the
pith. I found that I could get any amount of sensitiveness that I
liked ; but it was not only sensitive to the impact of a ray of light, it
was immeasurably more so to a change of horizontality. It was, in
fact, too delicate for me to work with. The slightest elevation of one
end of the instrument altered the sensitiveness, or the position of the

FIG. 3.

FIG. 4.

zero-point, to such a degree that it was impossible to try any experi
ments with it in such a place as London. A person stepping from
one room to another altered the position of the centre of gravity of
the house. If I walked from one side of my own laboratory to the
other, I tilted the house over sufficiently to upset the equilibrium of
the apparatus. Children playing in the street disturbed it. Prof.
Rood, who has worked with an apparatus of this kind in America,
finds that an elevation of its side equal to 360 ooooo P art of an inch is
sufficient to be shown on the instrument. It was therefore out of the
question to use an instrument of this construction, so I tried another
form (shown in Fig. 4), in which a fine glass beam, having disks of
pith at each end, is suspended horizontally by a fine glass fibre, the
whole being sealed up in glass and perfectly exhausted. To the cen
tre of oscillation a glass mirror is attached.

Now, a glass fibre has the property of always coming back to zero
when it is twisted out of its position. It is almost, if not quite, a per
fectly elastic body. I will show this by a simple experiment. This
is a long glass fibre hanging vertically, and having an horizontal bar

z6i THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

suspended on it. I hold the bar, and turn it half round ; it swings
backward and forward for a few times, but it quickly comes back to
its original position. However much twist, however much torsion,
may be put on this, it always returns ultimately to the same position.
I have twisted glass fibres round and kept them in a permanent state
of twist more than a hundred complete revolutions, and they always
came back accurately to zero. The principle of an instrument that I
shall describe farther on depends entirely on this property of glass.

Instead of using silk to suspend the torsion-beam with, I employ a
fibre of glass, drawn out very fine before the blow-pipe. A thread of
glass of less than the thousandth of an inch in thickness is wonder
fully strong, of great stiffness, and of perfect elasticity, so that, how
ever much it is twisted round short of the breaking-point, it untwists
itself perfectly when liberated. The advantage of using glass fibres
for suspending my beam is, therefore, that it always returns accu
rately to zero after having tried an experiment, while I can get any
desired amount of sensitiveness by drawing out the glass fibre suffi
ciently fine.

Here, then, is the torsion apparatus sealed on to a Sprengel pump.
You will easily understand the construction by reference to the dia
gram (Fig. 4). It consists of an horizontal beam suspended by a glass
fibre, and having disks of pith at each end coated with lampblack.
The whole is inclosed in a glass case, made of tubes blown together,
and by means of the pump the air is entirely removed. In the centre
of the horizontal beam is a silvered mirror, and a ray from the electric
light is reflected from it on to a scale in front, where it is visible as a
small circular spot of light. It is evident that an angular movement
of the torsion-beam will cause the spot of light to move to the right
or to the left along the scale. I will first show you the wonderful
sensitiveness of the apparatus. I simply place my finger near the
pith-disk at one end, and the warmth is quite sufficient to drive the
spot of light several inches along the scale. It has now returned to
zero, and I place a candle near it. The spot of light flies off the scale.
I now bring the candle near it alternately from one side to the other,
and you see how perfectly it obeys the force of the candle. I think
the movement is almost better seen without the screen than with it.
The fog, which has been so great a detriment to every one elsej is
rather in my favor, for it shows the luminous index like a solid bar of
light swaying to and fro across the room. The warmth of my finger,
or the radiation from a candle, is therefore seen to drive the pith-
disk away. Here is a lump of ice, and on bringing it near one of the
disks the luminous index promptly shows a movement of apparent
attraction.

With this apparatus I have tried many experiments, and among
others I endeavored to answer the question, "Is it light, or is it heat,
that produces the movement ? "for that is a question that is asked

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 263

me by almost every one ; and a good many appear to think that, if
the motion can be explained by an action of heat, all the novelty and
the importance of the discovery vanish. Now, this question of light
or heat is one I cannot answer, and I think that when I have ex
plained the reason you will agree with me that it is unanswerable.
There is no physical difference between light and heat. Here is a
diagram of the visible spectrum (Fig. 5). The spectrum, as scientific

PIG. 5.

men understand it, extends from an indefinite distance beyond the red
to an indefinite distance beyond the violet. We do not know how far
it would extend one way or the other if no absorbing media were
present; but, by what we may call a physiological accident, the
human eye is sensitive to a portion of the spectrum situated between
the line A in the red to about the line H in the violet. But this is
not a physical difference between the luminous and non-luminous
parts of the spectrum; it is only a physiological difference. Now, the
part at the red end of the spectrum possesses, in the greatest degree,
the property of causing the sensation of warmth, and of dilating the
mercury in a thermometer, and of doing other things which are con
veniently classed among the effects of heat ; the centre part affects
the eye, and is therefore called light ; while the part at the other end
of the spectrum has the greatest energy in producing chemical action.
But it must not be forgotten that any ray of the spectrum, from what
ever part it is selected, will produce all these physical actions in more
or less degree. A ray here, at the letter C for instance in the orange,
if concentrated on the bulb of a thermometer, will cause the mercury
to dilate, and thus show the presence of heat ; if concentrated on my
hand I feel warmth ; if I throw it on the face of a thermo-pile it will
produce a current of electricity ; if I throw it upon a sensitive photo
graphic plate it will produce chemical action ; and if I throw it upon
the instrument I have just described it will produce motion. What,
then, am I to call that ray ? Is it light, heat, electricity, chemical
action, or motion ? It is neither. All these actions are inseparable

264 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

attributes of the ray of that particular wave-length, and are not evi
dences of separate identities. I can no more split that ray up into
five or six different rays, each having different properties, than I can
split up the element iron, for instance, into other elements, one pos
sessing the specific gravity of iron, another its magnetic properties,
a third its chemical properties, a fourth its conducting power for
heat, and so on. A ray of light of a definite refrangibility is one and
indivisible, just as an element is, and these different properties of the
ray are mere functions of that refrangibility, and inseparable from it.
Therefore when I tell you that a ray in the ultra-red pushes the in
strument with a force of one hundred, and a ray in the most luminous
part has a dynamic value of about half that, it must be understood
that the latter action is not due to heat-rays which accompany the
luminous rays, but that the action is one purely due to the wave
length and the refrangibility of the ray employed. You now under
stand why it is that I cannot give a definite answer to the question,
" Is it heat or is it light that produces these movements ? " There is
no physical difference between heat and light ; so, to avoid confusion,
I call the total bundle of rays which come from a candle or the sun,
radiation.

I found, by throwing the pure rays of the spectrum one after the
other upon this apparatus, that I could obtain a very definite answer
to my first question, " What are the actual rays which cause this
action ? "

The apparatus was fitted up in a room specially devoted to it, and
was protected on all sides, except where the rays of light had to pass,
with cotton-wool and large bottles of water. A heliostat reflected a
beam of sunlight in a constant direction, and it was received on an
appropriate arrangement of slit, lenses, prisms, etc., for projecting a
pure spectrum. Hesults were obtained in the months of July, August,
and September ; and they are given in the figure (Fig. 5) graphically
as a curve, the maximum being in the ultra-red and the minimum in
the ultra-violet. Taking the maximum at 100, the following are the
mechanical values of the different colors of the spectrum :

Ultra-red . . . : . ... . ... . .100

Extreme red . . . . ..... . 85

Red . . . . . . .73

Orange . . . . . . . . 66

Yellow . . . . . . . . . . .57

Green ........:.... 41

Blue . . . ... .... . . . 22

Indigo . . , . . -... . . , .- -. .- . 8

Violet . . . .. . . ... . . .6

Ultra-violet ..... . . . . . . 5

A comparison of these figures is a sufficient proof that the mechanical
action of radiation is as much a function of the luminous rays as it is
of the dark heat-rays.

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 265

The second question namely, " What influence has the color of
the surface on the action ? " has also been solved by this apparatus.

In order to obtain comparative results between disks of pith coat
ed with lampblack and with other substances, another torsion appa
ratus was constructed, in which six disks in vacuo could be exposed
one after the other to a standard light. One disk always being lamp-
blacked pith, the other disks could be changed so as to get compari
sons of action. Calling the action of radiation from a candle on the
lainpblacked disk 100, the following are the proportions obtained :

Lampblacked pith 100

Iodide of palladium 87.3

Precipitated silver 56

Amorphous phosphorus 40

Sulphate of baryta 37

Milk of sulphur 31

Red oxide of iron . 28

Scarlet iodide of mercury and copper 22

Lampblacked silver 18

.White pith 18

Carbonate of lead 13

Rock-salt . . . . * . 6.5

Glass 6.5

This table gives important information on many points : one more
especially the action of radiation on lampblacked pith is five and a
half times what it is on plain pith. A bar like those used in my first
experiment, having one-half black and one-half white, exposed to
a broad beam of radiation, will be pushed with five and a half times
more strength on the black than on the white half, and if freely sus
pended will set at an angle greater or less according to the intensity
of the radiation falling on it.

This suggests the employment of such a bar as a photometer, and
I have accordingly made an instrument on this principle ; its con
struction is shown in the diagram (Fig. 6). It consists of a flat bar
of pith, A, half black and half white, suspended horizontally in a
bulb by means of a long silk fibre. A reflecting mirror, J?, and small
magnet, (7, are fastened to the pith, and a controlling magnet, D, is
fastened outside so that it can slide up and down the tube, and thus
increase or diminish sensitiveness. The whole is completely exhaust
ed and then inclosed in a box lined with black velvet, with apertures
for the rays of light to pass in and out. A ray of light from a lamp,
F, reflected from the mirror, J3. to a graduated scale, #, shows the
movements of the pith-bar.

The instrument fitted up for a photometric experiment is in front
of me on the table. A beam from the electric light falls on the little
mirror, and is thence reflected back to the screen, where it forms a
spot of light, the displacement of which to the right or the left shows
the movement of the pith-bar. One end of the bar is blacked on

2 66

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

each side, the other end being left plain. I have two candles, E E^
each twelve inches off the pith-bar, one on each side of it. When I
remove the screens, H H^ the candle on one side will give the pith a

Fia. 6.

push in one direction, and the candle on the other side will give the
pith a push in the opposite direction, and as they are the same dis
tance off they will neutralize each other, and the spot of light will not
move. I ILOW take the two screens away : each candle is pushing the

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 267

pith equally in opposite directions, and the luminous index remains
at zero. When, however, I cut one candle off, the candle on the op
posite side exerts its full influence, and the index flies to one end of
the scale. I cut the other one off and obscure the first, and the spot
of light flies to the other side. I obscure them both, and the index
comes quickly to zero. I remove the screens simultaneously, and the
index does not move.

I will retain one candle 12 inches off, and put two candles on the
other side 17 inches off. On removing the screens you see the index
does not move from zero. Now the square of 12 is 144, and the
square of 17 is 289. Twice 144 is 288. The light of these candles,
therefore, is as 288 to 289. They therefore balance each other as
nearly as possible. Similarly I can balance a gaslight against a can
dle. I have a small gas-burner here, which I place 28 inches off on
one side, and you see it balances the candle 12 inches off. These ex
periments show how conveniently and accurately this instrument can
be used as a photometer. By balancing a standard candle on one side
against any source of light on the other, the value of the latter in
terms of a candle is readily shown ; thus in the last experiment the
standard candle 12 inches off is -balanced by a gas-flame 28 inches
off. The lights are, therefore, in the proportion of 12 2 to 28 2 , or as
1 to 5.4. The gas-burner is, therefore, equal to about five and a half
candles.

In practical work on photometry it is often required to ascertain
the value of gas. Gas is spoken of commercially as of so many can
dle-power. There is a certain " standard " candle which is supposed
to be made invariable by act of Parliament. I have worked a great
deal with these standard candles, and I find them to be among the
most variable things in the world. They never burn with the same
luminosity from one hour to the other, and no two candles are alike.
I can now, however, easily get over this difficulty. I place a "stand
ard " candle at such a distance from the apparatus that it gives a
deflection of 100 on the scale. If it is poorer than the standard, I
bring it nearer; if better, I put it farther off. Indeed, any candle
may be taken ; and if it be placed at such a distance from the appa
ratus that it will give a uniform deflection, say, of 100 divisions, the
standard can be reproduced at any subsequent time ; and the burning
of the candle may be tested during the photometric experiments by
taking the deflection it causes from time to time, and altering its dis
tance, if needed, to keep the deflection at 100 divisions. The gaslight
to be tested is placed at such a distance on the opposite side of the
pith-bar that it exactly balances the candle. Then, by squaring the
distances, I get the exact proportion between the gas and the candle.

Before this instrument can be used as a photometer or light-meas
urer, means must be taken to cut off from it all those rays coming
from the candle or gas which are not actually luminous. A reference

268 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to the spectrum diagram (Fig. 5) will show that at each end of the
colored rays there is a large space inactive, as far as the eye is con
cerned, but active in respect to the production of motion strongly so
at the red end, less strong at the violet end. Before the instrument
can be used to measure luminosity, these rays must be cut off. We
buy gas for the light that it gives, not for the heat that it evolves on
burning, and it would therefore never do to measure the heat and pay
for it as light.

It has been found that a clear plate of alum, while letting all the
light through, is almost if not quite opaque to the heating rays below
the red. A solution of alum in water is almost as effective as a crys
tal of alum ; if, therefore, I place in front of the instrument glass
cells containing an aqueous solution of alum, the dark heat-rays are
filtered off.

But the ultra-violet rays still pass through, and to cut these off I
dissolve in the alum-solution a quantity of sulphate of quinine. This
body has the property of cutting off the ultra-violet rays from a point
between the lines G and If. A combination of alum and sulphate of
quinine, therefore, limits the action to those rays which affect the hu
man eye, and the instrument, such as you see it before you, becomes
a true photometer.

This instrument, when its sensitiveness is not deadened by the
powerful control magnet I am obliged to keep near it for these ex
periments, is wonderfully sensible to light. In my own laboratory, a
candle thirty-six feet off produces a decided movement, and the mo
tion of the index increases inversely with the square of the distance,
thus answering the third question, " Is the amount of action in direct
proportion to the amount of radiation ? "

The experimental observations and the numbers which are required
by the theoretical diminution of light with the square of the distance
are sufficiently close, as the following figures show :

Candle 6 feet off gives a deflection of 218

12 " " 54.0

18 " " 24.5

24 " " 13.0

10 " " 77.0

20 " " 19.0

30 " " 8.5

The effect of two candles side by side is practically double, and of
three candles three times that of one candle.

In the instrument just described, the candle acts on a pith-bar,
one end of which is blacked on each side. But suppose I black the
bar on alternate halves, and place a light near it sufficiently strong to
drive the bar half round. The light will now have presented to it
another black surface in the same position as the first, and the bar
will be again driven in the same direction half round. This action will

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT.

269

A

be again repeated, the differential action of the light on the black and
white surfaces keeps the bar moving, and the result will be rotation.

Here is such a pith-bar, blacked on alternate sides, and sus
pended in an exhausted glass bulb (Fig. 7). I project its image on
the screen, and the strong light which shines on it sets
it rotating with considerable velocity. Now it is slacken
ing speed, and now it has stopped altogether. The bar
is supported on a fibre of silk, which has twisted round
till the rotation is stopped by the accumulated torsion. I
put a water-screen between the bar and the electric light
to cut off some of the active rays, and the silk untwists,
turning the bar in the opposite direction. I now remove
the water, and the bar revolves rapidly as at first.

From suspending the pith
on a silk fibre to balancing it
on a point the transition is
slight ; the interfering action
of torsion is thereby removed,
and the instrument rotates
continuously under the influ
ence of radiation. Many of
these little pieces of appara
tus, to which I have given
the name of radiometers, are
on the table, revolving with
more or less speed. The dia
gram (Fig. 8) shows their
construction, which is very
simple. They are formed of
four arms of very fine glass,

I \ / supported in the centre by a

y >/ needle-point, and having at

the extremities thin disks of
pith lampblacked on one side,
the black surfaces all facing the same way. The needle stands in a
glass cup, and the arms and diftks are delicately balanced so as to re
volve with the slightest impetus.

Here are some rotating by the light of a candle.

rather an historical instrument, being the first one in which I saw ro
tation. It goes very slowly in comparison with the others, but it is
not bad for the first instrument of the sort that was ever made.

I will now, by means of a vertical lantern, throw on the screen the
projection of one of these instruments, so as to show the movement
rather better than you could see it on the table. The electric light
falling vertically downward on it, and much of the power being cut
off by water and alum screens, the rotation is slow. I bring a candle

FIG. 7.

FIG

2 7 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

near and the speed increases. I now lift the radiometer up, and place
it full in the electric light, projecting its image direct on the screen,
and it goes so rapidly that if I had not cut out the four pieces of pith
of different shapes you would have been unable to follow the movement.

The speed with which a sensitive radiometer will revolve in the
sun is almost incredible ; and the electric light, such as I have it in
this lantern, cannot be far short of full sunshine. Here is the most
sensitive instrument I have yet made, and I project its image on the
screen, letting the full blaze of the electric light shine upon it. Noth
ing is seen but an undefined nebulous ring, which becomes at times
almost invisible. The number of revolutions per second cannot be
counted, but they must be several hundreds, for one candle has made
it spin round forty times a second.

I have called the instrument the radiometer because it will enable
me to measure the intensity of radiation falling on it by counting the
revolutions in a given time ; the law being that the rapidity of revo
lution is inversely as the square of the distance between the light and
the instrument.

When exposed to different numbers of candles at the same distance
off, the speed of revolution in a given time is in proportion to the
number of candles ; two candles giving twice the rapidity of one can
dle, and three, three times, etc.

The position of the light in the horizontal plane of the instrument
is of no consequence, provided the distance is not altered ; thus two
candles, one foot off, give the same number of revolutions per second,
whether they are side by side or opposite to each other. From this
it follows that if the radiometer is brought into a uniformly lighted
space it will continue to revolve.

It is easy to get rotation in a radiometer without having the sur
faces of the disks differently colored. Here is one having the pith-
disks blacked on both sides. I project its image on the screen, and
there is no movement. I bring a candle near it, and shade the light
from one side, when rapid rotation is produced, which is at once altered
in direction by moving the shade to the other side.

I have arranged here a radiometer so that it can be made to move
by a very faint light, and at the same* time its rotation is easily fol
lowed by all present. In this bulb is a large six-armed radiometer
carrying a mirror in its centre. The mirror is almost horizontal, but
not quite so, and therefore, when I throw a beam of electric light ver
tically downward on to the central mirror, the light is reflected off at
a slight angle, and, as the instrument rotates, its movement is shown
by the spot of light traveling round the ceiling in a circle. Here
again the fog helps us, for it gives us an imponderable beam of light
moving round the room like a solid body, and saving you the trouble
of looking up at the ceiling. I now set the radiometer moving round
by the light of a candle, and I want to show you that colored light

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 271

does not very much interfere with the movement. I place yellow
glass in front, and the movement is scarcely diminished at all. Very
deep-colored glass, you see, diminishes it a little more. Blue and
green glass make it go a little slower, but still do not diminish the
speed one-half. I now place a screen of water in front : the instru
ment moves with diminished velocity, rotating with about one-fourth
its original speed.

Taking the action produced by a candle-flame as .... 100
Yellow glass reduces it to 89

Red

Blue

Green

Water

Alum

71
56
56
26
15

I now move the candle a little distance off, so as to make the in
strument move slower, and bring a flask of boiling water close to it.
See what happens. The luminous index no longer moves steadily,
but in jerks. Each disk appears to come up to the boiling water with
difficulty, and to hurry past it. More and more sluggishly do they
move past, until now one has failed to get by, and the luminous beam,
after oscillating to and fro a few times, comes to rest. I now gradu
ally bring the candle near. The index shows no movement. Nearer
still. There is now a commencement of motion, as if the radiometer
were trying to push past the resistance offered by the hot water ; but
it is not until I have brought the candle to within a few inches of the
glass globe that rotation is recommenced. On these pith radiometers
the action of dark heat is to repel the black and white surfaces almost
equally, and this repulsion is so energetic as to overcome the rotation
caused by the candle, and to stop the instrument.

With a radiometer constructed of a good conductor of heat, such
as metal, the action of dark heat is different. Here is one made of
silvered copper, polished on one side and lampblacked on the other.
I have set it moving with a candle slightly the normal way. Here is
a glass shade heated so that it feels decidedly warm to the hand. I
cover the radiometer with it, and the rotation first stops, and then
recommences the reverse way. On removing the hot shade the
reverse movement ceases and normal rotation recommences.

If, however, I place a hot glass shade over a pith radiometer, the
arms at once revolve the normal way, as if I had exposed the instru
ment to light. The diametrically opposite behavior of a pith and a
metal instrument when exposed to the dark heat radiated from a hot
glass shade is very striking. The explanation of the action is not
easy, but it depends on the fact that the metal is one of the best con
ductors of heat, while pith is one of the worst.

One more experiment with this metallic radiometer,
strono-ly with a spirit-lamp, and the arms spin round rapidly. Now

2 7 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the whole bulb is hot, and I remove the lamp : see what happens.
The rotation quickly diminishes. Now it is at rest ; and now it is
spinning round just as fast the reverse way. I can produce this
reverse movement only with difficulty with a pith instrument. The
action is due to the metal being a good conductor of heat. As it
absorbs heat it moves one way ; as it radiates heat it moves the op
posite way.

At first I made these instruments of the very lightest material
possible, some of them not weighing more than half a grain ; and,
where extreme sensitiveness is required, lightness is essential. But
the force which carries them round is quite strong enough to move a
much greater weight. Thus the metallic instrument I have just ex
perimented with weighs over thirteen grains, and here is one still
heavier, made of four pieces of looking-glass blacked on the silvered
side, which are quickly sent round by the impact of this imponderable
agent, and flash the rays of light all round the room when the electric
lamp is turned on the instrument.

Before dismissing this instrument let me show one more experi
ment. I place the looking-glass and the metal radiometer side by
side, and, screening the light from them, they come almost to rest.
Their temperature is the same as that of the room. What will hap-

NULGNET

MORSE
INSTRUMENT

pen if I suddenly chill them ? I pour a few drops of ether on each of
the bulbs. Both instruments begin to revolve. But notice the differ
ence. While the movement in the case of the metal radiometer is
direct, that of the looking-glass instrument is reverse. And yet to a
candle they both rotate the same way, the black being repelled.

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 273

Now, having found that this force would carry round a compara
tively heavy weight, another useful application suggested itself. If
I can carry round heavy mirrors or plates of copper, I can carry
round a magnet. Here, then (Fig. 9), is an instrument carrying a
magnet, and outside is a smaller magnet, delicately balanced in a ver
tical position, having the south pole at the top and the north pole at
the bottom. As the inside magnet comes round, the outside magnet,
being delicately suspended on its centre, bows backward and forward,
and, making contact at the bottom, carries an electric current from a
battery to a Morse instrument. A ribbon of paper is drawn through
the " Morse " by clock-work, and at each contact at each revolution
of the radiometer a record is printed on the strip of paper by dots ;
close together if the radiometer revolves quickly, farther apart if it
goes slower.

Here the inner magnet is too strong to allow the radiometer to
start with a faint light without some initial impetus. Imagine the
instrument to be on the top of a mountain, away from everybody,
and I wish to start it in the morning. Outside the bulb are a few
coils of insulated copper wire, and by depressing the key for an in
stant I pass an electric current from the battery through them. The
interior magnet is immediately deflected from its north-south position,
and the impetus thus gained enables the light to keep up the rotation.
In a proper meteorological instrument I should have an astatic com
bination inside the bulb, so that a very faint light would be sufficient
to start it, but in this case I am obliged to set it going by an electric
current. I have placed a candle near the magnetic radiometer. I
now touch the key ; the instrument immediately responds ; the paper

FIG. 10.

unwinds from the Morse instrument, and on it you will see dots in
regular order. I put the candle eight inches off, and the dots come
wide apart. I place it five and three-quarters inches off, and two dots
come where one did before. I bring the candle four inches from the
instrument, and the dots become four times as numerous (Fig. 10),
thus recording automatically the intensity of the light falling on the

VOL. IX. 18

274 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

instrument, and proving that in this case also the radiometer obeys
the law of inverse squares.

This instrument, the principle of which I have illustrated to-night,
is not a mere toy or scientific curiosity, but it is capable of giving
much useful information in climatology. You are well aware that the
temperature, the rainfall, the atmospheric pressure, the direction and
force of the wind, are now carefully studied in most countries, in
order to elucidate their sanitary condition, their animal and vegetable
productions, and their agricultural capabilities. But one most im
portant element, the amount of light received at any given place, has
been hitherto but very crudely and approximately estimated, or rather
guessed at. Yet it cannot be denied that sunlight has its effect upon
life and health, vegetable, animal, and human, and that its relative
amount at any place is hence a point of no small moment. The diffi
culty is now overcome by such an instrument as this. The radiom
eter may be permanently placed on some tall building, or high moun
tain, and, by connecting it by telegraphic wires to a central observa
tory, an exact account can be kept of the proportion of sunlight
received in different latitudes, and at various heights above the sea-
level. Furthermore, our records of the comparative temperature of
different places have been hitherto deficient. The temperature of a
country depends partly on the amount of rays which it receives direct
from the sun, and partly on the atmospheric and oceanic currents,
warm or cold, which sweep over or near it. The thermometer does not
discriminate between these influences ; but the radiometer will enable
us now to distinguish how much of the annual temperature of a place
is due to the direct influence of the sun alone, and how much to the
other factors above referred to.

I now come to the last question which I stated at the beginning
of this lecture, " What is the amount of force exerted by radiation ? n
Well, I can calculate out the force in a certain way, from data sup
plied by this torsion apparatus (Fig. 4). Knowing the weight of the
beam, the power of the torsion fibre of glass, its time of oscillation,
and the size of the surface acted on, it is not difficult to calculate the
amount of force required to deflect the beam through a given angle ;
but I want to get a more direct measure of the force. I throw a ray
of light upon one of these instruments, and it gives a push ; surely it
is possible to measure the amount of this push in parts of a grain.
This I have succeeded in doing in the instrument behind me ; but be
fore showing the experiment I want to illustrate the principle upon
which it depends. Here is a very fine glass fibre suspended from an
horizontal bar, and I wish to show you the strength of it. The fibre
is only a few thousandths of an inch thick ; it is about three feet long,
and at the lower end is hanging a scale-pan, weighing 100 grains.
So I start with a pull of 100 grains on it. I now add little lead
weights, 50 grains each, till it breaks. It bears a pull of 750 grains,

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. z 7s

but gives way when additional weight is added. You see, then, the
great strength of a fibre of glass, so fine as to be invisible to all who
are not close to it, to resist a tensile strain.

Now I will illustrate another equally important property of a glass
thread, viz., its power to resist torsion. Here is a a still finer glass
thread, stretched horizontally between two supports ; and in order to
show its position I have put little jockeys of paper on it. One end is
cemented firmly to a wooden block, and the other end is attached to
a little instrument called a counter a little machine for registering
the number of revolutions. I now turn this handle till the fibre
breaks, and the counter will tell me how many twists I have given
this fibre of glass. You see it breaks at twenty revolutions. This is
rather a thicker fibre than usual. I have had them bear more than
200 turns without breaking, and some that I have worked with are so
fine that if I hold one of them by the end it curls itself up and floats
about the room like a piece of spider s thread.

Having now illustrated these properties of glass fibres, I will try
to show a very delicate experiment. I want to ascertain the amount
of pressure which radiation exerts on a blackened surface. I will put
a ray of light on the pan of a balance, and give you its weight in
grains, for I think in this Institution and before this audience I may
be allowed a scientific use of the imagination, and may speak of
weighing that which is not affected by gravitation.

The principle of the instrument is that of W. Ritchie s torsion
balance, described by him in the " Philosophical Transactions" for
1830. The construction is somewhat complicated, but it can be made
out on reference to the diagram (Fig. 11). A light beam, A B, having
two square inches of pith, (7, at one end, is balanced on a very fine
fibre of glass, D D , stretched horizontally in a tube; one end of the
fibre being connected with a torsion handle, JE, passing through the
tube, and indicating angular movements on a graduated circle.
The beam is cemented to the torsion fibre, and the whole is inclosed
in glass, and connected with the mercury pump by a spiral tube, F,
and exhausted as perfectly as possible. G is a spiral spring, to keep
the fibre in a uniform state of tension. His a piece of cocoon silk.
I is a glass stopper, which is ground into the tube as perfectly as
possible, and then highly polished and lubricated with melted India-
rubber, which is the only substance I know that allows perfect lubri-
, cation and will still hold a vacuum. The pith, (7, represents the
scale-pan of the balance. The cross-beam A B, which carries it, is
cemented firmly to the thin glass fibre, Z>, and in the centre is a piece
of mirror, K. Now, the cross-beam A B and the fibre D being rigidly
connected together, any twist which I give to the torsion handle E
will throw the beam out of adjustment. If, on the other hand, I
place a weight on the piece of pith C, that end of the beam will fall
down, and I "shall have to turn the handle, E, round and round a cer-

276 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tain number of times, until I have put sufficient torsion on the fibre D
to lift up the beam. Now, according to the law of torsion, the force
with which a perfectly elastic body like glass tends to untwist itself
is directly proportional to the number of degrees through which it
has been twisted ; therefore, knowing how many degrees of torsion I

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 277

must put on the fibre to lift up the ji-g- of a grain weight, I can tell
how many degrees of torsion are required to lift up any other weight ;
and conversely, putting an unknown weight or pressure on the pith,
I can find its equivalent in grains by seeing how much torsion it is
equal to. Thus, if y-J^ of a grain requires 10,000 of torsion, -^ of
a grain would require 20,000 ; and conversely, a weight which re
quired 5,000 torsion would weigh ^ a of a grain. Once knowing
the torsion equivalent of y-^- of a grain, the ratio of the known to
the unknown weights is given by the degrees of torsion.

Having thus explained the working of the torsion balance I will
proceed to the actual experiment. On the central mirror I throw a
ray from the electric light, and the beam reflected on a particular
spot of the ceiling will represent zero. The graduated circle 7of the
instrument also stands at zero, and the counter which I fasten on at
the end L stands at 0. The position of the spot of light reflected
from the little concave mirror being noted, the torsion balance enables
me to estimate the pressure or weight of a beam of light to a sur
prising degree of exactness. I lift up my little iron weight by means
of a magnet (for working in a vacuum I am restricted in the means
of manipulating), and drop it in the centre of the pith : it knocks the
scale-pan down, as if I had placed a pound weight upon an ordinary
balance, and the index-ray of light has flown far from the zero-point
on the ceiling. I now put torsion on the fibre to bring the beam again
into equilibrium. The index-ray is moving slowly back again. At
last it is at zero, and on looking at the circle and counter I see that I
have had to make 27 complete revolutions and 301, or 27x360 +
301 = ] 0,021, before the force of torsion would balance the T fg-
of a grain.

I now remove the weight from the pith-pan of my balance, and
liberate the glass thread from torsion by twisting it back again. Now
the spot of light on the ceiling is at zero, and the counter and index
are again at 0.

Having thus obtained the value of the ^ of a grain in torsion
degrees, I will get the same for the radiation from a candle. I place
a lighted candle exactly 6 inches from the blackened surface, and on
removing the screen the pith scale-pan falls down, and the index-ray
again flies across the ceiling. I now turn the torsion handle, and in
much less time than in the former case the ray is brought back to
zero. On looking at the counter I find it registers four revolutions,
and the index points to 188, making altogether 360 x 4 + 188 = 1628,
through which the torsion fibre has to be twisted to balance the light
of the candle.

It is an easy calculation to convert this into parts of a grain weight ;
10,021 torsion degrees representing 0.01 grain, 1628 torsion degrees
represent 0.001624 grain.

10,021 : 0.01 grain:: 1628 : 0.001624 grain.

278 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The radiation of a candle 6 inches oft , therefore, weighs or presses
the two square inches of blackened pith with a weight of 0.001624
grain. In my own laboratory, working with this torsion balance, I
found that a candle 6 inches off gave a pressure of 0.001772 grain.
The difference is only 0.000148 grain, and is fairly within the allow
able limits of a lecture experiment. But this balance is capable of
weighing to far greater accuracy than that. You have seen that a
torsion of 10,021 balanced the hundredth of a grain. If I give the
fibre 1 more twist the weight is overbalanced, as shown by the move
ment of the index-ray on the ceiling. Now 1 of torsion is about the
Io fto part of the whole torsion required by the ^-5- grain. It repre
sents, therefore, the T6 ^ 00 part of the T ^ T , or the millionth part cf a
grain.

Divide a grain-weight into a million parts, place one of them on
the pan of the balance, and the beam will be instantly depressed !

Weighed in this balance the mechanical force of a candle 12 inches
off was found to be 0.000444 grain; of a candle 6 inches off, 0.001772
grain. At half the distance the weight of radiation should be four
times, or 0.001776 grain; the difference between theory artd experi
ment being only four-millionths of a grain is a sufficient proof that
the indications of this instrument, like those of the apparatus previ
ously described, follow the law of inverse squares. An examination
of the differences between the separate observations and the mean
shows that my estimate of the sensitiveness of this balance is not ex
cessive, and that in practice it will safely indicate the millionth of a
grain.

I have only had one opportunity of getting an observation of the
weight of sunlight: it was taken on December 13th, but the sun was
so obscured by thin clouds and haze that it was only equal to 10.2
candles 6 inches off. Calculating from this datum, it is seen that the
pressure of sunshine is 2.3 tons per square mile.

But, however fair an equivalent ten candles may be for a London
sun in December, a midsummer sun in a cloudless sky has a very dif
ferent value. Authorities differ as to its exact equivalent, but I under
estimate it at 1,000 candles 12 inches off.

Let us see what pressure this will give: A candle 12 inches off,
acting on 2 square inches of surface, was found equal to 0.000444
grain; the sun, equaling 1,000 candles, therefore gives a pressure of
0.444000 grain ; that is equal to about 32 grains per square foot, to 2
cwts. per acre, 57 tons per square mile, or nearly 3,000,000,000 tons
on the exposed surface of the globe sufficient to knock the earth out
of its orbit if it came upon it suddenly.

It may be said that a force like this must alter our ordinary ideas
of gravitation ; but it must be remembered that we only know the
force of gravity as between bodies such as they actually exist, and we
do not know what this force would be if the temperatures of the gravi-

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 279

tating masses were to undergo a change. If the sun is gradually
cooling, possibly its attractive force is increasing, but the rate will be
so slow that it will probably not be detected by our present means
of research.

While showing this experiment I wish to have it distinctly under
stood that I do not attach the least importance to the actual numeri
cal results. I simply wish to show you the marvelous sensitiveness
of the apparatus with which I am accustomed to work. I may, indeed,
say that I know these rough estimates to be incorrect. It must be*
remembered that our earth is not a lampblacked body inclosed in a
glass case, nor is its shape such as to give the maximum of surface
with the minimum of weight. The solar forces which perpetually pour
on it are not simply absorbed and degraded into radiant heat, but arc
transformed into the various forms of motion we see around us, and
into the countless forms of vegetable, animal, and human activity.
The earth, it is true, is poised in vacuous space, but it is surrounded
by a cushion of air; and, knowing how strongly a little air stops the
movement of repulsion, it is easy to conceive that the sun s radiation
through this atmospheric layer may not produce any important amount
of repulsion. It is true the upper surface of our atmosphere must pre
sent a very cold front, and this might suffer repulsion by the sun ; but
I have said enough to show how utterly in the dark we are as to the
cosmical bearings of this action of radiation, and further speculation
would be but waste of time.

It may be of interest to compare these experimental results with a
calculation made in 1873, before any knowledge of these facts had
been made public.

Prof. Clerk Maxwell, in his " Electricity and Magnetism," vol. ii.,
p. 391, writes as follows : " The mean energy in one cubic foot of sun
light is about 0.0000000882 of a foot-pound, and the mean pressure on
a square foot is 0.0000000882 of a pound-weight. A flat body exposed
to sunlight would experience this pressure on its illuminated side only,
and would therefore be repelled from the side on which the light
falls."

Calculated out, this gives the pressure of sunlight equal to about
two and a half pounds per square mile. Between the two and a half
pounds deduced from calculation and the fifty-seven tons obtained
from experiment the difference is great ; but not greater than is often
the case between theory and experiment.

In conclusion, I beg to call especial attention to one not unimpor
tant lesson which may be gathered from this discovery. It will be at
once seen that the whole springs from the investigation of an anomaly.
Such a result is by no means singular. Anomalies may be regarded
as the finger-posts along the high-road of research, pointing to the
by-ways which lead to further discoveries. As scientific men are
well aware, our way of accounting for any given phenomenon is not

28o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

always perfect. Some point is perhaps taken for granted, some pe
culiar circumstance is overlooked. Or else our explanation agrees
with the facts not perfectly, but merely in an approximate manner,
leaving a something still to be accounted for. Now, these residual
phenomena, these very anomalies, may become the guides to new and
important revelations.

In the course of my research anomalies have sprung up in every
direction. I have felt like a traveler navigating some mighty river
in an unexplored continent. I have seen to the right and the left
other channels opening out, all claiming investigation, and promising
rich rewards of discovery for the explorer who shall trace them to
their source. Time has not allowed me to undertake the whole of a
task so vast and so manifold. I have felt compelled to follow out, as
far as lay in my power, my original idea, passing over reluctantly the
collateral questions springing up on either hand. To these I must
now invite the attention of my fellow- workers in science. There is
ample room for many inquirers.

Nor must we forget that the more rigidly we scrutinize our re
ceived theories, our routine explanations and interpretations of Nature,
and the more frankly we admit their shortcomings, the greater will be
our ultimate reward. In the practical world fortunes have been real
ized from the careful examination of what has been ignorantly thrown
aside as refuse ; no less, in the sphere of science, are reputations to be
made by the patient investigation of anomalies. Advance Sheets of
Quarterly Journal of Science.

THE CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD.

BY PKOF. J. S. NEWBEEEY,

OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE.

A FEW years ago the scientific world was startled by the asser
tion made by Charpentier and Agassiz, who had been study
ing the glacial phenomena of Switzerland that at no very remote
period, geologically speaking, the climate of the northern hemisphere
had been very much colder than at present ; and that the arctic con
ditions which now prevail in Greenland with perpetual snow-sheets,
and glaciers reaching the sea extended as far south as the middle of
the present temperate zone.

At first, seriously questioned by most, strenuously denied by some,
this theory was found to be sustained by such abundant and indis
putable evidence the inscriptions left by the glaciers themselves
that it was not long before it had secured a general acceptance from
.geologists. Since then there has been a vast amount of theorizing

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 281

and investigation, to determine if possible the causes of these remark
able changes of climate.

Up to the present time, however, no theory has been proposed
which has been sustained by really satisfying evidence, and there is
still much difference of opinion on the question among those who
know most about it.

As the subject is one of peculiar geological significance, and great
dramatic interest, I venture to bring forward some notes upon it, taken
from the geologist s standpoint, hoping that they may contribute in
some slight degree to the solution of the problem.

The theories which have been proposed to account for the cold of
the Ice period divide themselves into two groups, viz., the cosmical
and terrestrial ; or those which invoke extraneous or astronomical in
fluences, and those which look to changes in the earth itself, or on its
surface, for a sufficient cause or causes.

In the first category may be enumerated the theory of Prof. Croll,
that variations in the eccentricity of the earth s orbit have induced
great alternations of climate on portions of the earth s surface ; that of
Belt and Drayson, which supposes the known variability of the angle
of the pole with the ecliptic to have been at times sufficiently great
to have brought arctic conditions locally down into the temperate
zone ; also, the speculations that the heat evolved from the sun has
been variable in quantity, that the earth has at various times passed
through cold spaces in the universe, etc.

In the second category are the views first put forth by Lyell, ac
cording to which all the variations of climate recorded in geological
history have been induced by changes in the earth itself or on its
surface.

In this paper I shall consider only the latter theory, leaving the
discussion of the astronomical aspects of the subject to astronomers,
mathematicians, and physicists, who alone are competent to thor
oughly investigate them.

The explanation given by Lyell of the cold of the Ice period is in
conformity with his characteristic conservatism. It is well known
that the climatic conditions of all parts of the earth s surface are pro
foundly affected by their topographical features. This may be seen
at a glance by reference to any map on which the isothermal lines are
delineated. Continental surfaces are known to be productive of ex
tremes of temperature, while the climate of sea areas is comparatively
equable ; and the general character of the climate of land and water
surfaces is further and locally affected by the configuration and alti
tude of the land, by the breadth and depth of the oceanic basins, and
especially by the ocean-currents. The sea forms the great evaporating
surface, and the source from which is derived the enormous quantity
of water transported by the system of atmospheric circulation. The
local climate of continents is also largely influenced by the winds

282 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

which blow over them ; for these determine, to a considerable degree,
the temperature and the annual rainfall ; hence the volume and exca
vating power of rivers, etc. The higher portions of continents, as
mountain-chains and plateaux, are colder than the lowlands, and hence
become condensers of moisture places where snow accumulates and
glaciers are formed.

A striking illustration of the influence of topography on climate is
shown by the high, mountains of the tropics, where perpetual snow
and glaciers are coexistent with extreme tropical conditions, not only
on the same parallel, but within a narrow area. It is evident, then,
that topographical changes such as could be easily conceived would
readily and perfectly accomplish all the alternations of climate of
which we have any evidence in geological history. Kecognizing the
potency of topographical causes, Lyell sought for, and thought he
had found, a sufficient explanation of the contrast between the cli
mates of the Ice period and the present, in changes in the physical
geography of the northern hemisphere; assuming and believing that
the Glacial period was marked and caused by great elevation and
breadth of land-surface about the pole, and, as a corollary and conse
quence of this proposition, a depression of land and a broadening of
oceanic surfaces in the temperate and tropical zones.

This theory affords so simple an explanation of the problem of the
Ice period, that it at first strongly commends itself to those who are
most cautious and logical in their modes of thought and investiga
tion. Modern science is eminently conservative, and one of the first
lessons learned by the investigator of this age is, to exhaust all known
causes of phenomena before appealing to the unknown. Still, however
plausible this view may be, it must be sustained by solid and substan
tial proof before it deserves to be regarded as anything but a theory,
and before it can be accepted as a rule of faith and practice among
geologists. Unfortunately, such proof is not cnly yet wanting, but
there are many facts which, in the light of our present knowledge,
seem to indicate that it will never be obtained. The theory of Lyell
has, however, been adopted by Prof. Dana, in the last edition of his
"Manual," where he says (p. 541), "The occurrence of an Ice period
was probably dependent mainly, as suggested by Lyell, on the exten
sion and elevation of the land over the higher latitudes." Prof. Dana
has further elaborated and applied the Lyellian hypothesis by sug
gesting that in the Glacial period barriers of land connected the
continents of the two hemispheres, and excluded the tropical cur
rents from the polar seas, in this way cutting off the most powerful
equalizing influences, and inducing an exaggeration of the heat of
the tropics and the cold of the polar regions. He also claims that
high and broad land-surfaces in the circumpolar areas formed great
condensers and refrigerators, upon which the moisture, freely and
rapidly evaporated from the seething caldron of the circumscribed

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 283

tropical seas, was precipitated to form almost universal snow-fields
and glaciers ; certainly very favorable conditions for the production
of many of the phenomena which characterized the Glacial period.
It must be remembered, however, that this theory presupposes bar
riers established not only across the North Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans, but in the southern hemisphere as well for this also had its
Ice period barriers connecting the widely-separated promontories
of Cape Horn, Cape of Good Hope, and the islands of the East Indian
Archipelago; also that, simultaneously with the existence of such bar
riers, the tropical lands were depressed, and the sea spread its sedi
ments over much of what is in the present age terra firma.

In reviewing the theory proposed by Lyell and Dana, I have been
impressed with the conviction that if the physical geography of the
northern and southern hemispheres had been either alternately or
simultaneously such as this theory requires, we should find some evi
dence of it, apart from the inscriptions made by glaciers nearer the
equator than any now exist. In the search for such evidence, however,
I have not only failed to find it, but have, as it seems to me, found
other things which go far to disprove the theory.

In order to fully state the case, it will be necessary to review
several chapters in geological history, and compare the preceding and
also the succeeding age with that in which the climate of Greenland
came as far south as New York.

The results of such comparisons may be given as follows :

I. It is known to most students of geology that, during the Tertiary
age, the climate of all the arctic regions was warm-temperate. A
luxuriant forest then covered Greenland, and all the northern portion
of this continent ; such a forest as could only flourish in a climate as
mild as that of our Middle and Southern States. 1

According to the Lyellian hypothesis this should have been a period
of great depression of arctic, and elevation of tropical lands ; but we
have proof that such was not the case. On the contrary, the land
area at the north was broader then than now, while in the tropics it
was narrower. f

It can be shown, too, that land-connection then existed in northern
latitudes between Europe and America, and also between America
and Asia. The Atlantic bridge stretched from Greenland to Iceland,
thence to the Hebrides and Scotland, which was then part of the

1 It has been suggested that the warmth of the Tertiary climate was simply the effect
of the residual heat of a globe cooling from incandescence, but many facts disprove this.
For example, the fossil plants found in our Lower Cretaceous rocks in Central North
America indicate a temperate climate in latitude 35 to 40 in the Cretaceous age. The
coal-flora, too, and the beds of coal, indicate a moist, equable, and warm but not hot
climate in the Carboniferous age, millions of years before the Tertiary, and 3,000 miles
farther south than localities where magnolias, tulip-trees, and deciduous cypresses, grew
in the latter age. Some learned and cautious geologists even assert that there have been
several Ice periods, one as far back as the Devonian.

284 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

European Continent. The Pacific bridge was where Behring s Straits
now are.

These conclusions are deducible from the following facts :

1. Our American flora, which began in the Cretaceous, spread in
the Tertiary age to Europe on the one hand, and to China and Japan
on the other; and this could only have taken place when the con
tinents were connected. The characteristic plants of this flora have
been found fossilized on the Upper Missouri, on Mackenzie s River,
Disco Island, Greenland, Iceland, the island of Mull, and on the con
tinent of Europe as far south as Italy. No collection has been made
of Tertiary plants in Japan and China, but the living flora of these
countries contains a large number of species identical with those found,
either living or fossil, in North America. The remarkable similarity
between the flora of Northeastern Asia and that of America, so clearly
shown by Prof. Gray, is such as to demonstrate a community of origin,
and that its place of origin was America may be fairly inferred from
the character of the present American flora and from the facts that a
large part of the most characteristic genera are found here in the
Cretaceous rocks, and many of the living species in our fresh-water
Tertiaries.

2. Marine Tertiary deposits are almost completely absent from
the arctic lands, while they now skirt or cover most tropical continents
and islands.

Rocks containing marine Tertiary fossils are conclusive evidence
of the submergence in Tertiary times of the land in the localities where
they occur ; and they would not fail to exist over great areas in the
arctic, had the land there been more depressed in the Tertiary age
than now ; since most of the country which borders the Arctic Sea,
both in America and Asia, lies but little above the sea-level.

The Tertiary strata, that have yielded pore than three hundred
species of land-plants at the far north* are generally fresh-water and
marsh deposits, containing fresh-water shells and beds of lignite simi
lar to those of the central portions of our own continent. In contrast
to the state of things thus indicated, the marine Tertiaries, which
form the margins of our South Atlantic and Gulf States, the West
Indies, the Isthmus, and the northern part of South America, are au
tomatic records of high sea or low land level, in the tropical regions
during Tertiary times.

These facts seem to prove that in the period when a warm-tem
perate climate prevailed over all the arctic regions, the land was
broader and higher than now at the north, lower and narrower at the
south; and that barriers did then exist which excluded the tropical
ocean-currents from the arctic sea.

II. Just what the topography of the arctic regions was during
the Glacial period, we have as yet no very full and accurate informa
tion. It has been generally supposed that at least certain areas in the

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 285

north were then high, but this cannot be said to be proved. That
the arctic lands have been at some time raised higher than now, is
shown by the fiords of the northern coasts, which, as first pointed out
by Dana, must have been excavated by subaerial erosion ; but a large
part of that erosion may have been effected in the Tertiary age, and
perhaps it was chiefly accomplished then.

When a dense forest clothed the arctic lands, and spread over
continuous land-surfaces to Europe and Asia, these now half-sub
merged fiords were valleys traversed by flowing streams; for the
abundant Tertiary vegetation of the far north proves the country to
have been well watered. That these fiords were filled with glaciers
during the Ice period is certain, as the bottoms and sides of many
of them are glaciated, but this would happen again with a depression
of temperature, and without a depression of sea-level. The fact that
the glaciated surface of the bottoms of fiords in Sweden and America
passes under the sea, and reaches as far as observation can be carried,
is not the proof of elevation it has been claimed to be, for the glaciers
that now reach the sea must score their beds to the depth of several
hundred feet, before their extremities are lifted up by the one-tenth
greater gravity of water, and are floated off as icebergs. 1

Prof. J. W. Dawson holds the view that the Glacial period was
one of depression at the north, as he finds marine shells in the bowlder
clay of the St. Lawrence Valley ; and he attributes much of the gla-
ciation of Eastern North America to icebergs dragged over the sub
merged land.

Croll says ("Climate and Time," p. 391) :

" The greater elevation of the land (in the Ice period) is simply assumed as
an hypothesis to account for the cold. The facts of geology, however, are fast
establishing the opposite conclusion, viz., that when the country was covered
with ice, the land stood in relation to the sea at a lower level than at present,
and that the continental periods or times, when the land stood in relation to the
sea at a higher level than now, were the warm inter-glacial periods, when the
country was free of snow and ice, and a mild and equable condition of climate
prevailed. This is the conclusion toward which we are being led by the more
recent revelations of surface-geology, and also by certain facts connected with
the geographical distribution of plants and animals during the Glacial epoch." .

According to the investigations of Bohtlingk and Kjerulf, Scan
dinavia was 600 feet lower during the Glacial period than now.
Erdmann, on the contrary, supposes that Sweden was higher during
the Glacial epoch than at the present day, from the fact that polished

1 Some of the huge tabular icebergs, which have been observed off the Antarctic
Continent, projected more than 500 feet above the surface of the ocean ; and as for
every foot above water there must have been 8.7 feet submerged, the whole thickness
of the ice-sheet, from which these bergs were detached, must have been over 6,000 feet,
and such a glacier must grind the sea-bottom to a depth of over 4,000 feet. (See Croll,
" Climate and Time," p. 385.)

286 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rock-surfaces extend beneath the sea ; but this, as we have seen,
proves no such thing.

Dana bases his statement that the northern portion of our conti
nent was highest in the Ice period on the system of deep, now-buried
channels, by which its surface was once furrowed, and upon the fiords
which fringe the northern coast ; but, as elsewhere stated, we have
no proof that all, or nearly all, this erosion was not effected previous
to the Glacial epoch. Reviewing all the facts that have been cited,
we can at least say that the indications of elevation are not nearly so
well marked in the Quaternary as in the Tertiary; and the evidence of
such elevation as would shut out the tropical currents from the Arctic
Sea in the Quaternary age is wholly wanting.

In the Champlain epoch the northern land was greatly depressed,
as we learn from the fact that the clays containing marine shells are
found on the present land at* a constantly-increasing elevation as we
go toward the north. About New York the Champlain clays reach
from 50 to 100 feet above the ocean-level ; on Lake Champlain they
are 400 feet, at Montreal nearly 500 feet, at Labrador 800, in Bar
row s Straits 1,000, and at the extreme point reached by the Polaris
Expedition, on the coast of Greenland, 1,800 feet above the sea
(Bessel).

On the European coast of the Atlantic we nave proof of an eleva
tion of the land during the Tertiary, and a subsidence in the Quater
nary, similar to those described above. Hence we may infer that in
the Champlain epoch the topography of the arctic regions was just
that which would be favorable for the transfer by ocean-currents of
the heat of the tropics to the arctic, and a prevalence over the arctic
regions of a warm climate. But it must be said that all the shells
found in the Champlain clays, from Lake Champlain to Greenland,
are of a decided boreal character, which indicates that during the en
tire deposition of that formation a climate scarcely wanner than that
of Greenland prevailed from New England northward.

If it is true that the Glacial epoch was one of elevation at the
north an elevation of the land much greater than the present the
change to the depressed condition of the Champlain epoch, when the
sea stood from 1,500 to 1,800 feet higher on the coast of Greenland
than it now does, must have been comparatively sudden ; and if, as
has been asserted, the depression of the Champlain epoch was com
mon to the whole northern hemisphere, it could have been effected
only by a great change in the figure of the earth, or by a flow of the
ocean-waters into the polar regions, such as has been suggested by
Adhemar and Croll. These writers hold the view that the effect of
the extreme cold of the Glacial period was to form an ice-cap some
miles in thickness over the arctic regions, and that this ice-cap moved
the centre of gravity of the earth toward the pole, so that the oceanic
waters flowed into this hemisphere and thus elevated the sea-level.

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 287

One result of the formation of an ice-cap over the polar regions
alternately in one and the other hemisphere might very well be, as
claimed by Croll and admitted by Sir William Thomson, such great
ebbs and flows of the ocean-waters as we find recorded in the Cham-
plain clays, and the present depressed sea-level; but some more con
clusive evidence of an ice-cap will be asked by cautious reasoners than
these alternations of level: such evidence, for example, as universal
glaciation over all of North America of 40 north latitude. No
such evidence has as yet been adduced ; but, on the contrary, ob
servers report an absence of ice-marks in the interior of the continent
northwest of the Great Lakes. This we might take to be proof that
the glaciers of the Ice period were limited to the highlands compar
atively near the ocean, the source of evaporation, and that the inte
rior was so dry then and now that no glaciers could be formed there.
This is, however, a subject which requires further investigation.
Whatever be its cause, the uniformity and magnitude of the change
of sea-level from the Tertiary emergence to the Champlain submer
gence, and then to the present, render it one of the most remarkable
phenomena recorded in geological history, and one that with careful
study will probably throw much light upon the great dynamical in
fluences that have produced changes on the earth s surface.

III. Either simultaneously or alternately with the extremes of
warmth and cold, which we find recorded in the northern, warm and
cold periods prevailed in the southern hemisphere. The evidences of
a Glacial period in South America are as conclusive as on our own
continent ; but it is difficult to conceive how barriers could, at that
time, have been thrown across the great open oceans the South At
lantic and South Pacific in such a way as to confine the tropical cur
rents to the central portions of these oceans.

We are, perhaps, not justified in saying that such barriers never
did exist, but it will be conceded that the difficulties which oppose
their erection there are much greater than in the northern hemisphere ;
and the hypothesis which supposes their existence in the Glacial pe
riod of the southern hemisphere is so entirely unsupported by facts,
that we are compelled to regard it as mere conjecture.

In any discussion of the phenomena and causes of the Ice period
we are, up to the present time, somewhat limited and embarrassed for
want of a wider range of observation. The facts are not yet all in.
Nearly all the detailed and careful observations made on the glacial
phenomena of the northern hemisphere have been limited to the east
ern half of North America and the western part of the European
Continent. Here the traces left by the glaciers are really stupendous
in their magnitude and extent ; and we have demonstrative evidence
that, during the Ice period, the glaciers and snow-fields of Greenland
stretched continuously down along the Atlantic coast of North Amer
ica to and below New York, and that the highlands of New England

288 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and Eastern Canada were completely covered, and probably deeply
buried, in sheets of ice and snow. In the British Islands and Norway
the inscriptions made by ancient glaciers are scarcely less broad and
profound, and it is even conjectured that the bed of the shallow North
Sea is itself glaciated throughout. These evidences of vast accumu
lations of ice and snow on the borders of the Atlantic have led some
theorists to suppose that the Ice period was attended, if not in part
caused, by a far more abundant evaporation from the surface of the
Atlantic than takes place at present ; and it has even been conjectured
that submarine volcanoes in the tropics might have loaded the atmos
phere with an unusual amount of moisture. This speculation seems
to me, however, both improbable and superfluous ; improbable, be
cause no traces of any such cataclysm have been discovered, and it is
more than doubtful whether the generation of steam in the tropics,
however large the quantity, would produce glaciation of the polar
regions. The ascent of steam and heated air loaded with vapor to
the altitude of refrigeration, would, as it seems to me, result in the
rapid radiation of the heat into space, and the local precipitation of
unusual quantities of rain ; and the effect of such a catastrophe would
be slowly propagated and feebly felt in the arctic and antarctic re
gions. The hypothesis is superfluous, because all we want, to restore
the conditions recorded in the glaciated area, is simply a depression
of temperature ; by this the climate of Greenland, with all the attend
ing phenomena, would be brought down on both sides of the Atlan
tic to the lowest point where the average annual temperature of
Greenland prevailed.

This is, I think, proved by the condition of Greenland itself; re
mote as it is from evaporating surfaces of warm water, the pre
cipitation of moisture upon that continent is, however, sufficient to
cover it deeply under sheets of snow and ice ; the whole interior be
ing occupied by a continental glacier ; and it is easy to see that, with
a depression of the average annual temperature 10, the highlands of
Labrador would be brought into the same condition. With a still
further depression the elevated portions of New England, the Adi-
rondacks, and the highlands north of the lakes, would be completely
encased in snow and ice. If the flow of the St. Lawrence were ar
rested, and the annual precipitation of the region drained by it were
congealed, and retained from year to year, glaciers would soon form,
and creep down from the highlands into the valleys, until the basins
of the great lakes and the troughs of the Hudson and St. Lawrence
would be completely filled with ice. On the eastern side of the At
lantic this state of things would be still more rapidly reached, inas
much as, from the effect of the Gulf Stream, the coast climate is con
siderably more moist.

So far, then, as the region bordering the North Atlantic is con
cerned, a simple depression of temperature from any cause whatever,

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 289

terrestrial or cosmical, would produce all the phenomena of the Ice
period.

Before we can certainly determine, however, what the nature of
the cause producing the cold of the Ice period was, we must know
more accurately where and how the cause operated. To accomplish
this, observations must.be made over all those portions of the northern
and southern hemispheres where the traces of former glaciers are
visible.

In a general way we know that there was a cold period throughout
the northern hemisphere, as glacial phenomena are reported from Si
beria and Northwestern America, somewhat similar to those which
we find on the Atlantic coast. In regard to Siberia very much re
mains to be learned. Nearly the whole of the northern portion of
this great area is flat, and is deeply covered with Quaternary depos
its ; and it has been conjectured that in the Ice period the shallow sea
off the Siberian coast was solidly frozen throughout a great portion
of its breadth, and thus formed an ice-dam, behind which the drain
age of the northern slope accumulated alternately as sheets of ice
and bodies of fresh water.

The northern portion of the interior of our own continent is said to
be without distinct marks of glacial action. Should this statement be
confirmed by further observation, it would not, however, be a formida
ble argument against a general Glacial period; for intense cold would
leave no permanent record there, unless there was sufficient precipita
tion of moisture to form glaciers. As this region is now very dry and
sterile, it was perhaps so through the Ice period, and snow at no time
fell there in sufficient quantity to form glaciers. On the mountains of
British America and Alaska, of Oregon and California, there are
abundant evidences of glaciers far more numerous and extensive than
any now existing ; and these furnish demonstrative evidence that this
region shared in the effects of a distinct Ice period. The slopes of the
Cascade Mountains in Oregon are everywhere glaciated, and perhaps
no more impressive record of the Ice period exists than that formed
by the planed and furrowed surfaces, the roches moutonnees, etc., by
which all the higher portions of the belt, twenty to thirty miles in
width, are marked. No ice-sheet moved in that region from the north,
as there was no district of northern highlands where continental gla
ciers could be generated; but the glaciers radiated east and west
from various centres along the crests of the chain, and descended at
least 2,500 feet below the present snow line. This I determined by
actual barometric observation in many places, and I nowhere found
the lower limit of glacial action, as the planed and furrowed surfaces
passed beneath the alluvium of the lower valleys.

Whether there was a depression of the Western coast during the
Champlain epoch, corresponding to that recorded along the shores of
the Atlantic, we are as yet unable to say, as careful observations on

VOL. IX. 19

290 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

this interesting subject are wanting ; and these are not easily made
on this iron-bound and earthquake-shaken coast, where there has been
so little low and level land upon which Charaplain clays could be
deposited.

That this portion of the continent like the Eastern side has been
higher than now, we learn from the deeply-excavated channels of
the Golden Gate, the straits of Carquines, the mouth of the Colum
bia, the Canal De Haro, etc. But this erosion was produced in part
if not altogether in Tertiary times. At Shoalwater Bay and about
Steilacoom, there are raised beaches, apparently of ancient date, but
farther south the changes of level have been so frequent and local
that nothing like system has been educed from a comparison of the
old shore-lines.

Taken as a whole, the glacial inscriptions of the West coast, as
studied by King and Le Conte in California, and myself in Oregon,
prove an Ice period as distinctly as do the glacial marks of the At
lantic coast and the Mississippi Valley ; but the peculiar topography
of the Western country has made the record a somewhat different one.

From the foregoing facts it seems to me that we are justified in
concluding :

1. That however simple and plausible the Lyellian hypothesis may
be, or however ingenious the extension or application of it suggested
by Dana, it is not sustained by any proof, and the testimony of the
rocks seems to be decidedly against it.

2. Though much may yet be learned from a more extended and
careful study of the glacial phenomena of all parts of both hemispheres,
the facts already gathered seem to be incompatible with any theory
yet advanced which makes the Ice period simply a series of telluric
phenomena, and so far strengthens the arguments of those who look
to extraneous and cosmical causes for the origin of these phenomena.

A FITTING RECOGNITION OF AMERICAN SCIENCE.

PRESENTATION OF THE RUMFORD MEDAL BY THE AMERICAN ACADEMY OF
SCIENCE TO DR. DRAPER. FROM THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE ACADEMY.

AT the six hundred and eighty-ninth meeting of this body, held
March 8, 1876, the chairman of the Rumford Committee intro
duced the special business of the evening, and handed to the Presi
dent, Hon. Charles Francis Adams, the Rumford medals (in gold and
silver), on each of which had been engraved the following inscription :
" Awarded by the American Academy of Arts and Sciences to John
W. Draper, for his researches in radiant energy, May 25, 1875."
In presenting the medals the President said:

A FITTING RECOGNITION OF AMERICAN SCIENCE. 291

GENTLEMEN OF THE ACADEMY : The foundation of this Society,
you all know, dates back but four years less than a century. It fol
lowed close upon the adoption of the form of government of the State
itself. Further than this privilege of a corporation, I am not aware
that the State has since bestowed any aid on it whatever. During the
long period that has intervened, the individual members have steadily
and honestly contributed their labors and their money to the advance
ment of science and of the arts, the evidence of which is to be found
as well in the collections of the library as in the long series of their
published transactions. We have not been so lucky as to earn the
favor of the generous and wealthy at all in the proportion given to
some other institutions of the same general character. In point of
fact, we have to ascribe our success more to our own energies than to
the assistance of patrons. This is no bad sign for the future. The
Academy was never in more healthy and vigorous condition than at this
moment. The meetings are constantly attended by members who ap
pear to give or to receive with interest the many valuable contribu
tions to knowledge which ultimately take their place in the formidable
volumes open to the inspection of the world.

Yet it is not to be understood from what I have said that the insti
tution has been altogether without liberal assistance from several
sources. The most remarkable instance of a benefaction was perhaps
the earliest, that of Benjamin Thompson, better known under the name
of Count Rumford, who, eighty years ago, presented to the Academy
the sum of five thousand dollars, to be devoted to the stimulation of
the study of the various phenomena connected with light and heat, by
the presentation of medals of value as honorary rewards to successful
research. It is to the credit of the Academy, in these degenerate days,
to find that its administration of this property has fully justified the
confidence of the donor, the original sum having increased more than
fourfold over and above the cost of the medals which have from time
to time been awarded to successful investigation of the great subjects
proposed for study and examination.

It now becomes my agreeable duty to announce the fact that, after
a careful review of the meritorious service of Prof. Draper in this
great field of inquiry, the committee having the subject in their
charge have, for reasons given by them, recommended through their
chairman, that the medals prescribed in the deed of trust should be
presented to. him as having fully deserved them. It falls to my lot
only to recapitulate in brief some of these reasons.

In 1840 Dr. Draper independently discovered the peculiar phe
nomena commonly known as Moser s images, which are formed when
a medal or coin is placed upon a polished surface of glass or metal.
These images remain, as it were, latent, until a vapor is allowed to
condense upon the surface, when the image is developed and becomes
visible.

292 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

At a later period he devised the method of measuring the inten
sity of the chemical action of light, afterward perfected and employed
by Bunsen and Roscoe in their elaborate investigations. This method
consists in exposing to the source of light a mixture of equal volumes
of chlorine and hydrogen gases. Combination takes place more or
less rapidly, and the intensity of the chemical action of the light is
measured by the diminution in volume. No other known method
compares with this in accuracy, and most valuable results have been
obtained by its use.

In an elaborate investigation, published in 1847, Dr. Draper estab
lished experimentally the following important facts :

1. All solid substances, and probably liquids, become incandescent
at the same temperature.

2. The thermometric point at which substances become red-hot is
about 977 Fahr.

3. The spectrum of an incandescent solid is continuous ; it contains
neither bright nor dark fixed lines.

4. From common temperatures nearly up to 977 Fahr., the rays
emitted by a solid are invisible. At that temperature they are red,
and, the heat of the incandescing body being made continuously to
increase, other rays are added, increasing in refrangibility as the tem
perature rises.

5. While the addition of rays so much the more refrangible as the
temperature is higher is taking place, there is an increase in the in
tensity of those already existing. Thirteen years afterward Kirch -
hoff published his celebrated memoir on the relations between the
coefficients of emission and absorption of bodies for light and heat, in
which he established mathematically the same facts, and announced
them as new.

6. Dr. Draper claims, and we believe with justice, to have been the
first to apply the daguerreotype process to taking portraits.

7. Dr. Draper applied ruled glasses and specula to produce spectra
for the study of the chemical action of light. The employment of
ruled metallic specula for this purpose enabled him to avoid the
absorbent action of glass and other transparent media, as well as to
establish the points of maximum and minimum intensity with reference
to portions of the spectrum defined by their wave-lengths. He ob
tained also the advantage of employing a normal spectrum in place of
one which is abnormally condensed at one end and expanded at the
other.

8. We owe to him valuable and original researches on the nature
of the rays absorbed in the growth of plants in sunlight. These
researches prove that the maximum action is produced by the yel
low rays, and they have been fully confirmed by more recent investi
gations.

9. We owe to him, further, an elaborate discussion of the chemical

A FITTING RECOGNITION OF AMERICAN SCIENCE. 293

action of light, supported in a great measure by his own experiments,
and proving conclusively, and, as we believe, for the first time, that
rays of all wave-lengths are capable of producing chemical changes,
and that too little account has hitherto been taken of the nature of the
substance in which the decomposition is produced.

10. Finally, Dr. Draper has recently published researches on the
distribution of heat in the spectrum, which are of the highest interest,
and which have largely contributed to the advancement of our knowl
edge of the subject of- radiant energy.

And now, in the absence of Dr. Draper, unable at this inclement
season to execute a fatiguing journey, it gives me pleasure to recog
nize you, Mr. Quincy, as his worthy and competent representative.

I pray you, in receiving these two medals on his behalf, in accord
ance with the terms of. the original trust, to assure him, on the part
of the Academy, of the high satisfaction taken by all its Fellows in
doing honor to those who, like him, take a prominent rank in the ad
vance of science throughout the world. *

Mr. Quincy, on receiving the medals, said :

MB. PRESIDENT : In the name and on the behalf of Dr. Draper I
have the honor to receive the Rumford medals in gold and silver,
which the Academy has been pleased to award to him, and I will
have them safely conveyed to him to-morrow, together with the assur
ances of the satisfaction of the Academy in this action which you wish
me to communicate to him. In common with yourself, sir, and all the
Fellows present, I regret that that eminent person is unable to attend
this meeting and receive the medals himself. And, personally, I re
gret the absence of Dr. Wolcott Gibbs, who had promised to perform
this grateful service for his friend, and who would have been able to
make a more suitable reply to the able discourse with which you have
accompanied the presentation of the medals, and to have done more
justice to the claims of Dr. Draper to this distinction than I can pre
tend to do. Dr. Gibbs having also been unavoidably prevented from
being present this evening, I have now the honor to read a communi
cation from Dr. Draper to the Academy, in acknowledgment of this
testimony to his services to science.

Mr. Quincy then read the following letter :

To THE AMERICAN ACADEMY OF ARTS AND SCIENCES-: Your favorable ap
preciation of my researches on radiations, expressed to-day by the award of
the Rumford medals, the highest testimonial of approbation that American sci
ence has to bestow on those who have devoted themselves to the enlargement
of knowledge, is to me a most acceptable return for the attention I have given
to that subject through a period of more than forty years, and I deeply regret
that through ill-health I am unable to receive it in person.

Sir David Brewster, to whom science is under so many obligations for the
discoveries he made, once said to me that the solar-spectrum is a world in itself,
and that the study of it will never be completed. His remark is perfectly just.

But the spectrum is only a single manifestation of that infinite ether which

294 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

makes known to us the presence of the universe, and in which whatever exists
if I may be permitted to say so lives and moves and has its being.

What object, then, can be offered to us more worthy of contemplation than
the attributes of this intermedium between ourselves and the outer world?

Its existence, the modes of motion through it, its transverse vibrations, their
creation of the ideas of light and colors in the mind, the interferences of its
waves, polarization, the conception of radiations and their physical and chemi
cal effects these have occupied the thoughts of men of the highest order. The
observational powers of science have been greatly extended through the conse
quent invention of those grand instruments, the telescope, the microscope, the
spectrometer. Through these we have obtained more majestic views of the
nature of the universe. Through these we are able to contemplate the structure
and genesis of other systems of worlds, and are gathering information as to the
chemical constitution and history of the stars.

In this noble advancement of science you, through some of your members,
have taken no inconspicuous part. It adds impressively to the honor you have
this day conferred on me, that your action is the deliberate determination of
competent, severe, impartial judges. I cannot adequately express my feelings
of gratitude in such a presence, publicly pronouncing its approval on what I
have done.

I am, gentlemen, very truly yours, JOHN W. DRAPER.

BLASIUS S THEOEY OF STOEMS. 1

BY PBOF. VICTOE L. CONE AD, M. A.

IPEOPOSE to give some account of a new theory of storms put
forth by Prof. Blasius, of Philadelphia, formerly Professor of Nat
ural Sciences in the Lyceum of Hanover, Germany. His attention
was first drawn to the subject of storms in the year 1851. Having
witnessed the destructive effects of a tornado at West Cambridge,
Massachusetts, he made a careful survey of its entire track. The
facts discovered about the middle of its course, where the most dam
age had been caused, favored the rotary theory of Eedfield ; those
near the end of its path seemed to confirm the inblowing theory of
Espy ; but those at the beginning could not be explained by either
theory. Discouraged and perplexed by these conflicting results, he
resolved to apply to storms the analogy drawn from the life of an
animal in its origin or embryo, its development to maturity, and its
end. From this he argued that storms must have a beginning, a dura
tion, and an end, with phases peculiar to each stage of their develop
ment and progress, like an animal ; and, guided by this analogy, he
made a careful reexamination and application of all the facts he had

1 "Storms: Their Nature, Classification, and Laws, with the Means of predicting
them by their Embodiments the Clouds." By William Blasius. Philadelphia : Porter &
Coates.

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 295

discovered, and came to the following conclusion respecting the origin
and distinct character of tornadoes and storms :

ORIGIN or STORMS AND TORNADOES. " I had found the existence of two
opposing currents of air of different temperature, coming respectively from north
west and southwest, acting suddenly against each other after a sultry calm of some
duration; and shortly, a third gyratory force making its appearance between
them, traveling in their diagonal, growing to such magnitude as to obliterate all
trace of the straight-line forces of the opposing currents, and finally abruptly dis
appearing. The two currents must have been, during the period of sultry calm,
in a state of equilibrium, since the clouds were observed to remain for some
time almost stationary. South of the tornado s track the southwest wind pre
vailed until the beginning of the tornado, and, from information obtained for me
by ex-President Hill, it appeared that a storm had traveled from northwest to
southeast over the States of New Hampshire and Vermont, and that during its
progress a southwest wind was replaced by a northwest wind. I was thus led
to conclude that the storm announced that afternoon by the black bank of cloud
consisted in the conflict of two aerial currents of different temperature that the
colder northern current displaced the warmer southern current in the direction
from northwest to southeast, gradually decreasing in velocity until, north of
Waltham, West Cambridge, and Medford, it came to a perfect standstill, produc
ing the sultry calm felt before the tornado.

" Here the two currents, being in equilibrio, exerted a great compressive force
against each other. The equilibrium was disturbed by the uneven configuration
of the earth around Prospect Hill. This disturbance produced the tornado,
which traveled, not in the direction of the storm toward the southeast, but in
the diagonal of the two opposing currents over their region of calm at their line or
meeting, and in and underneath the black bank of clouds stretched out from west
to east which must have marked this line of meeting.

" I came thus to two distinct phenomena the tornado, and the storm in the
ordinary sense of the word both different in their origin, nature, direction, prog
ress, and appearance, and governed by entirely different laws."

Continuing his observations for several years, he came to the con
clusion

. That storms in the temperate zone at least, and over the United States, are
the effect of the conflict of opposing aerial currents of different temperatures, and
not the cause of these currents and temperatures, as seems to be assumed by some
cyclonists."

Continuing and extending his observations and studies in the gen
eral field of meteorology, our author compares his own method of
procedure with that usually pursued by others, as follows :

" Having found, during my investigations, that tornadoes and other storms
are different phenomena, and that they follow different laws, I endeavored to
investigate storms in general by the same method I had used with the tornado.

" My researches were not made by filling out the ordinary meteorological
formulae from observations made three pr four times daily, as is the custom. I
had learned that no storm will be accommodating enough to develop itself just
at the specified periods for observing ; I do not believe that this method will
ever lead to any definite results.

296 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

"A storm must be treated as an individual which is subject to development.
This is difficult, on account of the nature of the subject, but it is possible and
essential. We must take the storm at its earliest appearance, and not lose sight
of it for one moment until we know it throughout its whole extent, in all its
parts, from beginning to end."

This view of Prof. Blasius coincides with that of Sir William Her-
echel, who says :

"In endeavoring to interpret the weather, we are in the position of a man
who hears at intervals a few fragments of a long history related in a prosy, un
methodical manner. A host of circumstances omitted or forgotten, and the
want of connection between the parts, prevent the hearer from obtaining pos
session of the entire story."

DEFINITION OF A STORM. But leaving methods and passing to
results, our author defines a storm in general to be " the movement of
the air caused by its tendency to reestablish an equilibrium which has
been disturbed; and we may call all such movements storms, whether
they are gentle breezes or furious hurricanes, whether accompanied by
more or less condensation of moisture or clouds, or even by none at
all," as in deserts. t

CLASSIFICATION OF STORMS. As the result of his investigations in
aerial movements in the northern hemisphere, Prof. Blasius presents
the following classification of all storms :

1. LOCAL OB VERTICAL STORMS. Stationary. Centripetal. Produced by a
tendency of the atmosphere to reestablish in a vertical direction an equilibrium
that has been disturbed. Characteristic cloud cumulus.

2. PROGRESSIVE OR LATERAL STORMS. Traveling. Produced by a tendency
of the atmosphere to reestablish in a lateral direction an equilibrium that has
been disturbed. They are of two kinds :

(a.) EQUATORIAL OR NORTHEAST STORMS. Winter storms. Produced by a
warm current displacing a cool one to supply a deficiency toward the poles.
Temperature changing from cool to warm. Direction to the northeastern quad
rant. Characteristic cloud stratus.

(&.) POLAR OR SOUTHEAST AND SOUTHWEST STORMS. Summer storms. Pro
duced by a cool current displacing a warm one to supply a deficiency toward
the equator. Temperature changing from warm to cool. Direction to the
southern semicircle. Characteristic cloud cumulo-stratus.

3. LOCO-PROGRESSIVE OR DIAGONAL STORMS. Traveling locally. Rotary
tornadoes, hailstorms, sandstorms, water-spouts, etc. Produced by a tendency
of the atmosphere to reestablish the equilibrium of a polar storm which has
been disturbed in the plane of meeting by a peculiar configuration of the
ground. Direction, the diagonal of the forces of the two opposing currents
transversely through the polar storm. Characteristic cloud conns.

In order that the significance of the above classification may be
clearly understood, it will be well to notice in brief outline the general
movements of the atmosphere surrounding the globe, more especially
those in the northern hemisphere.

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 297

ATMOSPHERIC CURRENTS. All storms owe their origin to the heat
of the sun, which produces differences of temperature in different por
tions of the earth, and thereby causes all the movements and currents
which take place in the atmosphere around the globe. As the air at
the equator is more highly heated by the sun than that of any other
region, it expands, becomes lighter and rises, causing a partial vacuum
or deficiency there at the surface of the earth. The air north and
south of it at once moves forward from opposite directions to supply
this deficiency at the equator, and this in turn becomes heated and
ascends. Other air again moves forward from north and south to
replace it, and thus an upward current at the equator, and a north
and south polar current at the surface toward the equator, are estab
lished. These north and south polar currents cause a deficiency of
air at the poles, and the heated air which has risen at the equator into
the upper region of the atmosphere divides and moves forward tow
ard the opposite poles to supply the deficiency caused there. Thus,
upper currents in opposite directions from the equator to the poles
are also established in order to restore the equilibrium disturbed by
the surface polar currents flowing toward the equator.

But by the time the air of the upper currents has reached the re
gion of the tropics, it has become cooler and heavier, and descends to
the surface of the earth. Here it divides into two currents one
flowing back to the equator, forming the trade-winds ; and the other,
becoming warmer again at the surface, flows toward the poles, meet
ing the polar current somewhere north of the tropic in the northern
hemisphere, and south of it in the southern. This meeting of the
equatorial or tropical and polar currents in the temperate zone, and the
various phenomena attending and resulting from it, are the most sig
nificant and important facts which constitute the basis of Pr.of. Bla-
sius s theory of storms, in distinction from the centripetal theory of
Espy, and the rotary theory of Colonel Clapper, as developed by Pid-
dington, Thorn, Dove, and others, and better known in this country
as the cyclone theory of Redfield.

The following diagram (Fig. 1) will serve to indicate the move
ments and courses of the general atmospheric currents of the earth,
as above described, the arrows showing the directions in which they
move.

The two currents above referred to the polar and the equato
rial or tropical are of different temperatures, and move horizontally
in opposite directions toward each other. When they meet they over
lap each other somewhat like two wedges with their sharp ends for
ward. The warmer current, being lighter, glides obliquely over the
cooler current, and moves northward ; and the cooler current, being
heavier, moves beneath it on the surface of the earth southward, just
as two currents, warm and cold, flow over each other in opposite di
rections through an open window or door of a heated room.

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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The plane of meeting between these two currents is more or less
inclined northward in the northern hemisphere, for the reason just
stated ; and the lower end of the plane, or the space of air between
these two currents where they meet on the surface of the earth, 1 con
stitutes the centre line or area proper of the storm, and the region of
lowest barometer. The horizontal plane beneath this inclined plane a

FIG. 1. ATMOSPHERIC CURRENTS.

is the geographical extent of the region affected by the storm and the
region of low barometer. The place where the currents meet is con
stantly changing with the changing seasons, following the sun north
ward in summer and southward in winter. These changes of locality
do not, however, take place in one continuous movement of the at
mosphere ; but with successive oscillations, like the waves of a rising
tide, each succeeding wave advancing farther and receding less than
the one before it, until its most northern or southern limit is reached
as represented by the numbers 1 and 2 in the diagram when the
oscillations in the opposite direction again begin. Whenever the
lower end of the plane of meeting between the two opposing currents
at B oscillates or passes over any place on the surface of the earth, it
will cause storm or change of weather there a change of wind, of
temperature, and of atmospheric pressure.

The inclination of the plane of meeting, or the slope of the tropi-

1 As shown at B iii the diagram.

2 From B to D.

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 299

cal current over the polar, varies with the seasons and local circum
stances. In winter the slope between the two currents is very gradual,
as there is less difference of temperature, and less power of resistance
between them. The warm current passes over the cold at a gentle in
clination (as represented by the line If in Fig. 1) ; and thus the
horizontal or geographical extent of the storm beneath it from J5 to
D which is the region of low barometer, is much enlarged, and
sometimes its oscillations extend or move over several hundred miles.

In summer, however, the difference of temperature between the
two currents, and their power of resistance, are greater, and when
they meet they bank up against each other with more momentum and
force, and the plane of meeting or conflict is often very steep and
sometimes almost vertical (as indicated by H in Fig. 2). Hence,
the geographical extent of a storm in summer is much less than in
winter, and the region of low barometer which moves with it is cor
respondingly small.

CLOUDS THE PRECURSORS OF STORMS. Whenever a warm cur
rent of air, saturated with moisture, meets or mingles with a cold
current, the invisible moisture of the warm air is condensed into visi
ble vapor or clouds. As storms are produced by the movements and
conflicts of warm and cold currents of air, the formation of clouds
always indicates to the observer the region in the atmosphere where
such movements are taking place, which would otherwise be invisible.
Clouds, therefore, are the invariable precursors of storms, and the
kind of clouds formed will indicate the kind of storm or atmospheric
movements which produce them.

This general fact, however, does not apply to deserts, where the
moisture of the warm air is condensed and precipitated before it
meets the cooler air, and hence rain-clouds are seldom or never formed
by the sand-storms of deserts.

CLASSIFICATION OF CLOUDS. Whenever, on account of some topo
graphic circumstances, the sun heats any locality on the surface of
the earth more than the surrounding region, a gentle current or col
umn of heated air rises, and its invisible moisture is condensed into
small masses of clouds called cumuli, which spread and produce the
mottled appearance commonly known as " mackerel sky," as indi
cated at 1 in the accompanying illustration (Fig. 2).

But when, as is frequently the case in summer, a valley or plain, or
island, or any other place, is much more highly heated by the sun than
the surrounding region, the heated air over such locality rises more
rapidly and with more ascensional momentum ; and, as it reaches the
higher and cooler regions of the atmosphere, its moisture is condensed
into large rounded volumes, or mountain-like masses of cumulus clouds,
as indicated at 2 in the illustration. Such cumulus clouds always pre
cede and characterize a local summer storm or shower.

When the warm horizontal current from the south, as in winter,

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meets with tlie cold current from the north, it slopes upward over the
cooler current, and forms stripes or bands of stratus clouds along the
horizon, as shown in Fig. 3.

FIG. 2. CUMULUS CLOUDS.

These stratus clouds indicate to the observer the fact that a warm
current is coming northward.

When in summer a cool current is moving southward, it encoun
ters the warm equatorial or tropical current, which again glides up
ward and over it, and forms horizontal bands of stratus clouds along
the upper line of contact, as in winter storms ; but, in addition, the
denser cold air from the north, moving with more momentum, will
lift up the warm and saturated air from the tropics, and its moisture

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 301

will be condensed into masses of cumulus clouds banked up against
the top of the cold current, and arranged over the horizontal stratus
clouds. Thus is produced the combination of cumulo-stratus cloud,
as represented in Fig. 4, and which is characteristic of progressive
summer storms.

FIG. 3. STRATUS CLOUDS.

To the tornado-cloud produced by a whirl of air, and resembling
an inverted cone, Prof. Blasius gives the name of conus, which is
both distinctive and appropriate.

These four typical classes of clouds viz., cumulus, stratus, cu
mulo-stratus, and conus indicate and characterize the four different
classes of storms.

PREDICTION OF STORMS. With the foregoing facts and classifica
tions in view, Prof. Blasius s method of predicting the approach of
storms, " by their embodiments the clouds," can be verified by any
careful observer of ordinary intelligence.

WINTER STORMS. When in winter, while the wind is blowing
from the north, thin, hazy bands or stripes of stratus clouds appear
low in the southern horizon, it indicates that the warm current from
the south is flowing northward, sloping over the polar current, and
that the condensation of its vapor into clouds, by successive undula
tions, has commenced in the upper and colder regions of contact.
More and more of these stratus clouds gradually appear, until they
cover the entire southern sky and reach the zenith. This may require

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from twelve to twenty-four hours, or longer. Sometimes these clouds,
before reaching the zenith, will recede and disappear beneath the
southern horizon. This indicates a backward oscillation of the south
ern current, caused by the greater resistance of the polar current.
But in such case the stratus clouds will reappear next day, or sooner,
and uniting and, becoming denser, they will advance over the zenith,
and cover the whole heavens, discharging rain, snow, or sleet, accord-
ing to the thermal conditions present.

FIG. 4. CUMULO-STKATUS CLOUDS.

Thus, by observing the clouds, a northeast or winter storm may
always be predicted from one to three days beforehand, while the
barometer shows no change until the stratus clouds from the south
have reached and passed over the zenith, when it begins to fall ; but
the thermometer indicates no change.

At this stage of the storm the wind from the north rises and blows
more violently, while the clouds move northward against the wind,
and the rain or snow, driven by the prevailing wind, comes down
obliquely from the north. After some time the direction of the wind
changes, and there is a calm. The air is warmer, the thermometer
rises suddenly, the barometer has reached its lowest point, and the
rain or snow falls vertically. This calm continues for a longer or
shorter time, and the wind gradually changes until it comes from
nearly or quite the opposite quarter from which it came at the begin
ning of the storm, and blows more powerfully than before. The

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 303

barometer now rises again, but is not as high as before the storm,
because it is in the tropical current which has reached the locality.
If, now, the wind from the south, which has prevailed and driven
back the northern current, continues in the same direction until the
entire atmospheric area of the storm passes over the zenith north
ward, and the sky clears up from the south or southwest, as is gen
erally the case in early autumn or late spring, then the next storm or
change of weather will come from the north. But if the wind changes
its direction again before the storm is over, as is mostly the case in
mid-winter, and blows from the north, as it did at the beginning,
until the entire atmospheric area of the storm is carried backward
over the zenith, and the sky clears from the north, then the next
storm or change of weather will come from the south, as described
above. In this case the polar current has prevailed, the air is colder,
the thermometer falls, the barometer rises higher than in the other
case, and the atmospheric conditions existing before the storm are
gradually reestablished.

SUMMER STORMS. Before a progressive summer storm, the air is
usually warm and sultry, the sky cloudless but somewhat dim, and a
light southerly breeze is blowing. Suddenly the sound of distant rum
bling thunder is heard, and large masses of dark cumulus clouds rise
and arrange themselves on a long bank of stratus clouds in the north
ern or northwestern horizon. This is the cumulo-stratus combination
of clouds which is the herald of a polar or progressive summer storm.
Soon the south wind increases in violence, and drives clouds of dust
before it. The thunder rolls, and lightning flashes more frequently.
The clouds bank up higher and higher, and advance more slowly, until
at last they become stationary. These are the ordinary indications of a
violent progressive summer storm, which sometimes ends in a tornado.

Like a winter storm, it is produced by the meeting and conflict of
the polar and tropical currents under greater differences of temperature
and other conditions, and is therefore attended with more violent and
complex phenomena than those of a winter storm. The changes of
wind, and of the barometer and thermometer, during its development
at any locality, are similar to those of a winter storm in its return
oscillation southward ; that is, these changes occur in a reverse order
to those of a winter storm during the regular progress of the tropical
current northward, in the same order as during its oscillation south
ward.

In most cases of this kind of summer storms, after the clouds have
remained stationary for some time, discharged their rain and restored
the disturbed equilibrium of the atmosphere, the polar current which
produced it by moving southward oscillates back to the north again,
and the storm at this locality is over although similar phenomena
and changes will be occasioned by it later at other localities over
which it sweeps in its oscillation northward.

304 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The cumulo-stratus cloud, which is the precursor of this kind of
storm, can usually be observed only from one to eight hours, and, in
some cases of the most violent kind, only about twelve hours before it
will burst upon a place. Although these storms are the most danger
ous and destructive not unfrequently ending in tornadoes and hurri
canes the barometer is of no practical service in predicting it. This
is explained by the fact that in such storms the plane of meeting of
the two currents moves southward with its lower extremity, or region
of lowest barometer, in front, while the plane itself is more or less
inclined northward. Hence the barometer shows no change until
this region of lowest barometer moves over it, when it suddenly falls ;
but it is then already in the most dangerous part of the storm, and its
warning, therefore, comes too late ; while the clouds, if properly ob
served, always give warning in time to provide against the dangers
of such a storm.

TORNADOES. This class of storms includes hailstorms, water
spouts, hurricanes, and all storms in which rotary and lateral motions
are more or less combined. They are the most violent and destruc
tive of all storms, as well as the most complicated and difficult to
understand and explain. They are the offspring of progressive polar
or summer storms, and in the temperate zone occur only during
summer.

When in the development of a summer storm, as above described,
the two conflicting currents attain a state of equal power or resistance,
and thus balance each other, which is indicated when the dense cumu
lus clouds over the plane of conflict become stationary, then the storm
is at its crisis. The air within the region of conflict is compressed and
very sultry, and this condition is always felt before a tornado by per
sons within its area. If, now, during this critical stage of the storm,
no topographic or other disturbance of its tension take place in its
plane of meeting, a return oscillation of the polar current northward
will set in, and the storm will gradually clear away. But if, in this
crisis of the storm and during this high state of compression and re
sistance, either current becomes stronger, and forces back the other
over some hill or valley, or if some other obstruction or configuration
of the surface of the earth breaks the tension or disturbs the resistance
between the two currents at any point, so that the polar current will
sink as in a valley, then the tropical current will suddenly rush into
this depression and generate a succession of violent whirling and zig
zag motions along the diagonal of the two currents within the plane
of conflict, as the waters of a dam would rush through a sudden break
or depression in an embankment. This conclusion respecting the
origin of tornadoes Prof. Blasius reached after his careful study of
the West Cambridge tornado of 1851, and it was subsequently con
firmed by the facts and phenomena connected with the tornado of
Iowa and Illinois, in May, 1873, as obtained from the report of the

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 305

United States Signal Service for that year, as well as by those of other
tornadoes.

The characteristic cloud of a tornado is the conus, which appears
first above as a dense, dark disk, and is formed by the whirl of the
tropical current rushing into the depression of the polar current which
starts the tornado, and it is enlarged and lengthened by alternate
and rapid condensations above and below, as the tropical air whirls
and zigzags along the diagonal of conflict, until sometimes the conus
above and below unite as in the case of water-spouts at sea and a
rotating column of mingled air, dense cloud, dust, or water as the
case may be is thus formed, and sweeps along the plane of meeting
between the opposing currents, and beneath the bank of cumulus
clouds which mark the area of a tornado s path of destruction.

The conus cloud, however, as above described, is only formed when
the tornado has already commenced, and is therefore of no use to indi
cate its occurrence beforehand.

But when the dark and dense masses of cumulus clouds in a sum
mer storm cease moving forward or laterally, but bank up higher and
higher, and there is great commotion among them, and when there is
an oppressive sultriness about the air, these phenomena always indi
cate that the suspended storm is in a crisis or condition to generate a
tornado, in case some local obstruction or other cause disturb the
equilibrium of resistance between the two conflicting currents.

SCIENTIFIC ASPECTS. The condensed result of modern meteor
ological science is the general fact announced by Prof. Buys-Ballot,
of Utrecht, that " the wind always blows from the place of highest to
that of lowest barometer, turning by the rotation of the earth to the
right on the northern hemisphere, and to the left on the southern
hemisphere." This is known as " Ballot s Law," and is the chief
basis of all scientific weather predictions at the present day.

The first part of this law, given in italics, is found to be universally
correct. The second part, however, has many exceptions, and is as
often " honored in the breach as in the observance ; " for, in polar
storms, the winds from the northern semicircle do not conform to it.

Among other definite results attained by barometric observations
and deduced from Ballot s law, is the fact that the rain-area of a
storm extends over that of lowest barometer and also surrounds it.
The isobars, or elliptic lines, of equal barometer, surround the area of
lowest barometer, and the most distant isobar marks the limit of the
region of low barometer, and may be regarded as the boundary be
tween the regions of high and low barometer. The gradients indicate
the differences of pressure between the isobars on a line extending at
right angles from that of highest to that of lowest barometer.

The shape of the area of lowest barometer in a progressive storm
is that of an irregularly elongated ellipse, moving sideways, or in the
direction of its shortest diameter; and the gradients are found to be

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3 o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

much more steep on the southward than on the northward side of this
area ; from which it follows that the rain-area is much less on the
southward than on the northward side of a progressive storm.

All the atmospheric changes and phenomena above stated result
from the same general cause, but under different conditions and cir
cumstances. This cause is the meeting of the polar and tropical cur
rents in their movements northward and southward, to restore a dis
turbed equilibrium in the atmosphere toward the equator or the poles.

Applying this theory in brief explanation of the facts stated in
connection with Ballot s law, we find the area of lowest barometer at
the place where the two currents meet on the surface of the earth. It
is produced by the obliquely upward movement of the tropical cur
rent over the polar current, and by its rising more or less vertically
in the vicinity of contact, after its horizontal progress northward has
been checked by encountering the polar current. This oblique and
upward movement of the tropical current diminishes the atmospheric
pressure there, as shown by the barometer, and produces that depress
ing calm which is always felt by persons in any locality where this
meeting of currents takes place, or over which its area moves or oscil
lates during the continuance of a storm. The elongated, elliptical
shape of this area is accounted for by the fact that it is the narrow
space between the two currents where they meet, and extends east
ward and westward between them. It is rounded at the ends or mar
gins of the currents, where the wind, in accordance with Ballot s law,
blows inward toward the centre line of contact, which is also the cen
tre line of lowest barometer. And, as the two currents force each
other backward and forward during a storm, they necessarily carry
along the elliptical space between them, and thus its movements in the
direction of its shorter axis are accounted for.

The rain-area, or that of low barometer, which surrounds the
elliptical region of lowest barometer where the currents meet on the
surface, as just explained, extends horizontally beneath the plane of
meeting, which is inclined northward. It is produced chiefly by the
oblique and upward movement of the tropical current over the polar.

The gradients, or different degrees of pressure within the rain-
area, are caused by the same upward movement of the tropical cur-
rent over the polar, in connection with .the constantly-varying heights
or depths of both polar .and tropical air, which are vertically above
the space beneath the inclined plane from the region of lowest to that
of highest barometer northward; and the steeper or more abrupt
gradients southward are explained by the fact that when the tropical
current meets the polar current it is suddenly checked, and while a
portion of it moves obliquely over the polar current, as stated, another
portion of it rises, more or less vertically, for some distance around
the vicinity of contact, and the pressure is thus more suddenly dimin
ished on the southward side of this area of low barometer than on

ORDEALS AND OATHS. 307

the northward, where it slopes more gradually beneath the inclined
plane of meeting, as above explained.

For obvious reasons, the region of high barometer is within the
polar current before it meets the tropical, and also within the tropical
current before it is disturbed, or its horizontal movement checked by
meeting the polar current ; but the barometer is highest in the polar
current, because it is colder and denser.

In addition to the foregoing facts which barometric observations
have established, this theory of opposing currents explains a great
many other aerial problems and phenomena which have not heretofore
been adequately accounted for. Among these are the real causes of
different kinds of storms and how they originate ; why they move for
ward and backward, carrying the lines and areas of high and low
barometer, of isobars and gradients, with them, and why they cease ;
why the barometer indicates the approach of some storms in advance,
but is useless in others ; why it falls in some storms but rises in others ;
why a progressive storm travels against the prevailing wind, and why
the wind changes during its progress ; why there is a region of calm,
and why the wind is stronger around this region of calm. It explains
how snow-storms change to rain, or sleet and rain, and why it falls
obliquely toward the direction from which the storm is coming; also
why in some storms the rain falls in advance of the area of low barome
ter and in the rear of it in others. It accounts for the origin of torna
does, water-spouts, hail-storms, and all other whirling storms, and
explains why these always move in an eastward direction on our con
tinent. It explains why the rain-areas of winter storms are more ex
tended than those of summer, why their approach is slower and their
continuance longer, and why they produce sudden changes of tempera
ture in their progress over any place. It greatly simplifies and cor
rects previous explanations respecting the formation of different kinds
of clouds, and accounts for the development of electricity both in
summer and in winter storms.

ORDEALS AKD OATHS.

BY EDWARD B, TYLOK.

IX primitive stages of society, the clannish life of rude tribes may
well have been more favorable to frank and truthful relations be
tween man and man than our wider and looser social intercourse can
be. Yet one can see, from the habits of modern savages, that already
in early savage times society was setting itself to take measures
against men who broke faith to save themselves from harm or to
gain some coveted good. At the stage of civilization where social

3 o8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

order was becoming regular and settled, the wise men turned their
minds to devise guarantees stronger than mere yes and no. Thus the
ordeal and the oath were introduced, that wrong-doing should not be
concealed or denied, that unrighteous claims should not be backed
by false witness, and that covenants made should not be broken.

The principles on which these ordeals and oaths were invented
and developed may to this day be plainly made out. It is evident
that the matter was referred to the two intellectual orders of early
times, the magicians and the priests. Each advised after the manner
of his own profession. The magician said, " With my symbols and
charms I will try the accused, and bind the witness and the promiser."
The priest said, " I will call upon my spirits, and they shall find out the
hidden thing, and punish the lie and the broken vow." Now, magic
and religion are separate in their nature and origin. Magic is based
on a delusive tendency arising out of the association of ideas, namely,
the tendency to believe that things which are ideally connected in
our minds must therefore be really connected in the outer world.
Religion is based on the doctrine of spiritual beings, souls, demons,
or deities, who take cognizance of men and interpose in their affairs.
It is needful to keep this absolute distinction clear in our minds, for
on it depends our finding our mental way through a set of complicated
proceedings, in which magical and religious elements have become
mixed in the most intricate manner. Well they might, considering
how commonly the professions of sorcerer and priest have overlapped
so as even to be combined in one and the same person. But it seems,
from a general survey of the facts of ordeals and oaths, that on the
whole the magical element in them is earliest and underlying, while
the religious element is apt to come in later in history, often only
taking up and consecrating some old magical process.

In the series of instances to be brought into view, this blending
of the religious with the magical element will be repeatedly observ
able. It will be seen also that the ordeal and the oath are not only
allied in their fundamental principles, but that they continually run
into one another in their use. Oaths, we shall see, may be made to
act as ordeals, and ordeals are brought in as tests of oaths. While
recognizing this close connection, it will be convenient to divide the
two and take them in order according to their practical application,
ordeals being proceedings for the discovery of wrong-doers, while
oaths are of the nature of declarations of undertakings.

The association of ideas which serves as a magical basis for an
ordeal is quite childish in its simplicity. Suppose it has to be decided
which of two men has acted wrongfully, and appeal is had to the
ordeal. There being no evidence on the real issue, a fanciful issue is
taken instead, which can be settled, and the association of ideas does
not rest. Thus in Borneo, when two Dyaks have to decide which is
in the right, they have two equal lumps of salt given them to drop

ORDEALS AND OATHS.

309

together into water, and the one whose lump is gone first is in the
wrong. Or they put two live shell-fish on a plate, one for each dis.
putant, and squeeze lime-juice over them, the verdict being given
according to which man s champion-mollusk moves first. This reason
ing is such as any child can enter into. Among the Sandwich-
Islanders, again, when a thief had to be detected, the priest would
consecrate a dish of water, and the suspected persons, one by one,
held their hands over it, till the approach of the guilty was known by
the water trembling. Here the connection of ideas is plain. But we
may see it somewhat more fully thought out in Europe, where the old
notion remains on record that the executioner s sword will tremble
when a thief draws near, and even utter a dull clang at the approach
of a murderer.

Starting with the magical ordeal, we have next to notice how the
religious element is imported into it. Take the ordeal of the balance,
well known to Hindoo law. A rude pair of scales is set up with its
wooden scale-beam supported on posts ; the accused is put in one
scale, and stones and sand in the other to counterpoise him ; then he
is taken out, to be put in again after the balance has been called upon
to show his guilt by letting him go down, or his innocence by raising
him up. This is pure magic, the ideal weight of guilt being by mere
absurd association of ideas transferred to material weight in a pair
of scales. In this process no religious act is essential, but in practice
it is introduced by prayers and sacrifices, and a sacred formula
appealing to the great gods who know the walk of men, so that it is
considered to be by their divine aid that the accused rises or falls at
once in material fact and moral metaphor. If he either goes fairly up
or down the case is clear. But a difficulty arises if the accused hap
pens to weigh the same as he did five minutes before, so nearly at
least as can be detected by a pair of heavy wooden scales which
would hardly turn within an ounce or two. This embarrassing pos
sibility has in fact perplexed the Hindoo lawyers not a little. One
learned pundit says, " He is guilty, unless he goes right up ! " A
second suggests, " Weigh him again ! " A third distinguishes with
subtlety, "If he weighs the same he is guilty, but not so guilty as if
he had gone rio-ht down ! " The one only interpretation that never
occurs to any of them is, that sin may be an imponderable. We may
smile at the Hindoo way of striking a moral balance, but it should be
remembered that a similar practice, probably a survival from the same
original Aryan rite, was kept up in England within the last century.
In 1759, near Aylesbury, a woman who could not get her spinning-
wheel to go round, and naturally concluded that it had been be
witched, charged one Susannah Haynokes with being the witch. At
this Susannah s husband was indignant, and demanded that his wife
should be allowed to clear herself by the customary ordeal of weigh
ing. So they took her to the parish church, stripped her to her under

310 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

garments, and weighed her against the church Bible ; she outweighed
it, and went home in triumph. Here the metaphor of weighing is
worked in the opposite way to that in India, but it is quite as intelli
gible, and not a whit the worse for practical purposes. For yet an
other case, how an old magical process may be afterward transformed
by bringing in the religious sanction, we may look at the ancient
classic sieve and shears, the sieve being suspended by sticking the
points of the open shears into the rim, and the handles of the shears
balanced on the forefingers of the holders. To discover a thief, or a
lover, all that was required was to call over all suspected names, till
the instrument turned at the right one. In the course of history, this
childish divining-ordeal came to be Christianized into the key and
Bible ; the key, of course, to open the secret, the Bible to supply the
test of truth. For a thief-ordeal, the proper mode is to tie in the key
at the verse of the 50th Psalm, " When thou sawest a thief, then thou
consentedst with him ; " and then, when the names are called over, at
the name of the guilty one the instrument makes its sign by swerving
or turning in the holders hands. This is interesting, as being almost
the only ordeal which survives in common use in England ; it may be
met with in many an out-of-the-way farmhouse. It is some years
since English rustics have dared to " swim " a witch, that is, to put in
practice the ancient water-ordeal, which our folk-lore remembers in
its most archaic Aryan form. Its essential principle is as plainly
magical as any : the water, being set to make the trial, shows its
decision by rejecting the guilty, who accordingly comes up to the
surface. Our ancestors, who did not seize the distinction between
weight and specific gravity, used to wonder at the supernatural power
with which the water would heave up a wicked fellow, even if he
weighed sixteen stone.

Medieval ordeals, by water or fire, by touch of the corpse, or by
wager of battle, have fallen to mere curiosities of literature, and it is
needless to dwell here on their well-known picturesque details, or to
repeat the liturgies of prayer or malediction said or sung by the con
secrating priests. It is not by such accompanying formulas, but by
the intention of the act itself, that we must estimate the real position
of the religious element in it. Nowhere is this so strong as in what
may be called the ordeal by miracle, where the innocent by divine
help walks over the nine red-hot ploughshares, or carries the red-hot
iron bar in his hand, or drinks a dose of deadly poison, and is none the
worse for it ; or, in the opposite way, where the draught of harmless
water, cursed or consecrated by the priests, will bring, within a few
days, dire disease on him or her who, being guilty, has dared to drink
of it.

Looking at the subject from the statesman s point of view, the
survey of the ordeals of all nations and ages enables us to judge with
some certainty what their practical effect has been for evil or good.

ORDEALS AND OATHS. 311

Their basis being mere delusive imagination, when honestly adminis
tered, their being right or wrong has been matter of mere accident.
It would, however, be a mistake to suppose that fair-play ever gen
erally prevailed in the administration of ordeals. As is well known,
they have always been engines of political power in the hands of un
scrupulous priests and chiefs. Often it was unnecessary even to cheat,
when the arbiter had it at his pleasure to administer either a harmless
ordeal like drinking cursed water, or a deadly ordeal by a dose of
aconite or physostigma. When it comes to sheer cheating, nothing
can be more atrocious than this poison-ordeal. In West Africa, where
the Calabar bean is used, the administerers can give the accused a dose
which will make him sick, and so prove his innocence, or they can
give him enough to prove him guilty, and murder him in the very act
of proof; when we consider that over a great part of that great conti
nent this and similar drugs usually determine the destiny of people in
convenient to the fetich-man and the chief the constituted authorities
of church and state we see before us one efficient cause of the unpro-
gressive character of African society. The famed ordeal by red-hot
iron, also, has been a palpable swindle in the hands of the authorities.
In India and Arabia the test is to lick the iron, which will burn the
guilty tongue but not the innocent. Now, no doubt the judges know
the secret that innocent and guilty alike can lick a white-hot iron
with impunity, as any blacksmith will do, and as I have done myself,
the layer of vapor in a spheroidal state preventing any chemical con
tact with the skin. As for the walking over red-hot ploughshares, or
carrying a red-hot iron bar three paces in the palm of the hand, its
fraudulent nature fits with the fact that the ecclesiastics who adminis
tered it took their precautions against close approach of spectators
much more carefully than the jugglers do who handle the red-hot bars
and walk over the ploughshares nowadays ; and, moreover, any list of
cases will show how inevitably the friend of the Church got off, while
the man on the wrong side was sure to " lose his cause and burn his
fingers." Remembering how Queen Emma in the story, with uplifted
eyes, walked over the ploughshares without knowing it, and then
asked when the trial was *o begin, and how, after this triumphant
issue, one-and-twenty manors were settled on the bishopric and church
of Winchester, it may be inferred with some probability that in such
cases the glowing ploughshares glowed with nothing more dangerous
than daubs of red paint.

Almost the only effect of ordeals which can be looked upon as
beneficial to society is, that the belief in their efficacy has done some
thing to deter the credulous from crime, and still more often has led
the guilty to betray himself by his own terrified imagination. Visitors
to Rome know the great round marble mask called the Bocca della
Verita. It is but the sink of an old drain ; but many a frightened
knave has shrunk from the test of putting his hand into its open

312 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

" mouth of truth " and taking oath of his innocence, lest it should
really close on him as tradition says it does on the forsworn. The
ordeal by the mouthful of food is still popular in Southern Asia for its
practical effectiveness : the thief in the household, his mouth dry with
nervous terror, fails to masticate or swallow fairly the grains of rice.
So in old England, the culprit may have failed to swallow the con
secrated cor-snaed, or trial-slice of bread or cheese ; it stuck in his
throat, as in Earl Godwin s in the story. To this day the formula,
" May this mouthful choke me if I am not speaking the truth ! " keeps
up the memory of the official ordeal. Not less effective is the ordeal
by curse, still used in Russia to detect a thief. The babushka, or
local witch, stands with a vessel of water before her in the midst of
the assembled household, and makes bread-pills to drop in, saying to
each in order, " Ivan Ivanoff, if you are guilty, as this ball falls to the
bottom, so your soul will fall into hell." But this is more than any
common Russian will face, and the rule is that the culprit confessos at
sight. This is the best that can be said for ordeals. Under their
most favorable aspect, they are useful delusions or pious frauds. At
worst they are those wickedest of human deeds, crimes disguised
behind the mask of justice. Shall we wonder that the world, slowly
trying its institutions by the experience of ages, has at last come to
the stage of casting out the judicial ordeal ; or shall we rather won
der at the constitution of the human mind, which for so many ages
has set up the creations of delusive fancy to hold sway over a world
of facts ?

From the ordeal we pass to the oath. The oath, for purposes of
classification, may be best defined as an asseveration made under su
perhuman penalty, such penalty being (as in the ordeal) either magi
cal or religious in its nature, or both combined. Here, then, we dis
tinguish the oath from the mere declaration, or promise, or covenant,
however formal. For example, the covenant by grasping hands is
not in itself an oath, nor is even that wide-spread ancient ceremony
of entering into a bond of brotherhood by the two parties mixing
drops of their blood, or tasting each other s. This latter rite, though
often called an oath, can under this definition be only reckoned as a
solemn compact. But when a Galla of Abyssinia sits down over a pit
covered over with a hide, imprecating that he may fall into a pit if
he breaks his word, or when in our police-courts we make a Chinaman
swear by taking an earthen saucer and breaking it on the rail in front
of the witness-box, signifying, as the interpreter then puts it in
words, " If you do not tell the truth, your soul will be cracked like
this saucer," we have here two full oaths, of which the penalty, magi
cal or religious, is shown in pantomime before us. By-the-way, the
English judges who authorized this last sensational ceremony must
have believed that they were calling on a Chinaman to take a judi
cial oath after the manner of his own country ; but they acted under

ORDEALS AND OATHS. 313

a mistake, for in fact the Chinese use no oaths at all in their law-courts.
Now, we have to distinguish these real oaths from mere asseverations,
in which emphatic terms, or descriptive gestures, are introduced mere
ly for the purpose of showing the strength of resolve in the declarer s
mind. Where, then, does the difference lie between the two ? It is
to be found in the incurring of supernatural penalty. There would
be no difficulty at all in clearing up the question, were it not that
theologians have set up a distinction between oaths of imprecation
and oaths of witness. Such subtilties, however, looked at from a
practical point of view^ are seen to be casuistic cobwebs which a
touch of the rough broom of common-sense will sweep away. The
practical question is this : does the swearer mean that by going
through the ceremony he brings on himself, if he breaks faith, some
special magic harm, or divine displeasure and punishment ? If so, the
oath is practically imprecatory ; if not, it is futile, wanting the very
sanction which gives it legal value. It does not matter whether the
imprecation is stated or only implied. When a Bedouin picks up a
straw, and swears by him who made it grow and wither, there is no
need to accompany this with a homily on the fate of the perjured.
This reticence is so usual in the world, that as often as not we have to
go outside the actual formula and ceremony to learn what their full
intention is.

Let us now examine some typical forms of oath. The rude natives
of New Guinea swear by the sun, or by a certain mountain, or by a
weapon, that the sun may burn them, or the mountain crush them, or
the weapon wound them, if they lie. The even ruder savages of the
Brazilian forests, to confirm their words, raise the hand over the head
or thrust it into their hair, or they will touch the point s of their weap
ons. These two accounts of savage ceremony introduce us to customs
well known to nations of higher culture. The raising of the hand
toward the sky seems to mean here what it does elsewhere. It is in
gesture calling on the heaven-god to smite the perjurer with his thun
derbolt. The touching of the head, again, carries its meaning among
these Brazilians almost as plainly as in Africa, where we find men
swearing by their heads or limbs, in the belief that they would wither
if forsworn ; or, as when among the Old Prussians a man would lay
his right hand on his own neck, and his left on the holy oak, saying,
"May Perkun (the thunder-god) destroy me!" As to swearing by
weapons, another graphic instance of its original meaning comes from
Aracan, where the witness swearing to speak the truth takes in his
hand a musket, a sword, a spear, a tiger s tusk, a crocodile s tooth,
and a thunderbolt (that is, of course, a stone celt). The oath by the
weapon not only lasted on through classic ages, but remained so com
mon in Christendom that it was expressly forbidden by a synod ;
even in the seventeenth century, to swear on the sword (like Hamlet s
friends in the ghost-scene) was still a legal oath in Holstein. As for

3 H THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the holding up the hand to invoke the personal divine sky, the suc
cessor of this primitive gesture remains to this day among the chief
acts in the solemn oaths of European nations.

It could scarcely be shown more clearly with what childlike
imagination the savage conceives that a symbolic action, such as
touching his head or his spear, will somehow pass into reality. In
connection with this group of oaths, w r e can carry yet a step further
the illustration of the way men s minds work in this primitive stage
of association of ideas. One of the accounts from New Guinea is
that the swearer, holding up an arrow, calls gn Heaven to punish him
if he lies ; but by turning the arrow the other way the oath can be
neutralized. This is magic all over. What one symbol can do, the
reverse symbol can undo. True to the laws of primitive magical rea
soning, uncultured men elsewhere still carry on the symbolic reversal
of their oaths. An Abyssinian chief, who had sworn an oath he dis
liked, has been seen to scrape it off his tongue and spit it out. There
are still places in Germany where the false witness reckons to escape
the spiritual consequences of perjury by crooking one finger, to make
it, I suppose, not a straight but a crooked oath, or he puts his left
hand to his side to neutralize what the right hand is doing. Here is
the idea of our " over the left ; " but so far as I know this has come
down with us to mere schoolboy s shuffling.

It has just been noticed that the arsenal of deadly weapons by
which the natives of Aracan swear, includes a tiger s tusk and a
crocodile s tooth. This leads us to a group of instructive rites belong
ing to Central and North Asia. Probably to this day there may be
seen in Russian law-courts in Siberia the oath on the bear s head.
When an Ostiak is to be sworn a bear s head is brought into court,
and the man makes believe to bite at it, calling on the bear to de
vour him in like manner if he does not tell the truth. Now, the
meaning of this act goes beyond magic and into religion, for we
are here in the region of bear-worship, among people who believe
that this wise and divine beast knows what goes on, and will come
and punish them. Nor need one wonder at this, for the idea that
the bear will hear and come if called on is familiar to German my
thology. I was interested to find it still in survival in Switzerland
a few years ago, when a peasant-woman, whom a mischievous little
English boy had irritated beyond endurance, pronounced the ancient
awful imprecation on him, " The bear take thee ! " (der Bar nimm
dich !) Among the hill-tribes of India a tiger s skin is sworn on in
the same sense as the bear s head among the Ostiaks. Rivers, again,
which to the savage and barbarian are intelligent and personal divini
ties, are sworn by in strong belief that their waters will punish him
who takes their name in vain. We can understand why Homeric
heroes swore by the rivers, when we hear still among Hindoos how the
sacred Ganges will take vengeance sure and terrible on the children

ORDEALS AJ\ T D OATHS. 315

of the perjurer. It is with the same personification, the same fear of
impending chastisement from the outraged deity, that savage and
barbaric men have sworn by sky or sun. Thus the Huron Indian
would say in making solemn promise, " Heaven hears what we do
this day ! " and the Tunguz, brandishing a knife before the sun, would
say, " If I lie, may the sun plunge sickness into my entrails like this
knife." We have but to rise one stage higher in religious ideas to
reach the type of the famous Roman oaths by Jupiter, the heaven-
god. He who swore held in his hand a stone, praying that, if he
knowingly deceived, others might be safe in their countries and laws,
their holy places and their tombs, but he alone might be cast out, as
this stone now and he flung it from him. Even more impressive
was the great treaty-oath, where the pater patratus, holding the sa
cred flint that symbolized the thunderbolt, called on Jove that if by
public counsel or wicked fraud the Romans should break the treaty
first " In that day, O Jove, smite thou the Roman people as I here
to-day shall smite this swine, and smite the heavier as thou art the
stronger ! " So saying, he slew the victim w r ith the sacred stone.

These various examples may be taken as showing the nature and
meaning of such oaths as belong to the lower stages of civilization.
Their binding power is that of curses, that the perjurer may be vis
ited by mishap, disease, death. But at a higher stage of culture,
where the gods are ceasing to be divine natural objects like the Tiber
or Ganges, or the sun or sky, but are passing into the glorified human
or heroic stage, like Apollo or Yenus, there conies into view a milder
kind of oath, where the man enters into fealty with the god, whom
he asks to favor or preserve him on condition of his keeping troth.
Thus, while the proceeding is still an oath with a penalty, this pen
alty now lies in the perjurer s forfeiting the divine favor. To this
milder form, which we may conveniently call the " oath of condi
tional favor," belong such classic phrases as " So may the gods love
me ! " (Ita me Dii ament /), " As I wish the gods to be propitious to
me ! " (Ita mihi Deos velim propitios). I call attention to this class
of oaths, of which we shall presently meet with a remarkable exam
ple nearer home. We have now to take into consideration a move
ment of far larger scope.

Returning to the great first-mentioned class of savage and barbaric
oaths, sworn by gestures or weapons, or by invocation of divine
beasts, or rivers, or greater Nature-deities the question now to be
asked is, What is the nature of the penalties ? It is, that the per
jurer may be withered by disease, wounded, drowned, smitten by the
thunderbolt, etc., all these being temporal, visible punishments. The
state of belief to which the whole class belong is that explicitly de
scribed among the natives of the Tonga Islands, where oaths were
received on the declared ground that the gods would punish the false-
swearer here on earth. A name is wanted to denote this class of

3 i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

oaths, belonging especially to the lower culture ; let us call them
" mundane oaths." Now, it is at a point above the savage level in
culture that the thought first comes in of the perjurer being punished
in a world beyond the grave. This was a conception familiar to the
Egyptians in their remotely ancient civilization. It was at home
among the old Homeric Greeks, as when Agamemnon, swearing his
mighty oaths, calls to witness, not only Father Zeus, and the all-see
ing sun, and the rivers, and earth, but also the Erinnys who down
below chastise the souls of the dead, whosoever shall have been for
sworn. Not less plainly is it written in the ancient Hindoo " Laws of
Manu " "A man of understanding shall swear no false oath even in a
trifling matter, for he who swears a false oath goes hereafter and here
to destruction." To this higher stage of culture, then, belongs the
introduction of the new " post-mundane " element into oaths. For
ages afterward nations might still use either kind, or combine them
by adding the penalty after death to that in life. But in the later
course of history there comes plainly into view a tendency to subor
dinate the old mundane oath, and at last to suppress it altogether.
How this came to pass is plain on the face of the matter. It was
simply the result of accumulated experience. The continual compari
son of opinions with facts could not but force observant minds to
admit that a man might swear falsely on sword s edge or spear s
point, and yet die with a whole skin ; that bears and tigers were not
to be depended on to choose perjurers for their victims, and that in
fact the correspondence between the imprecation and the event was
not real, but only ideal. How judgment by real results thus shaped
itself in men s minds we may see by the way it came to public utter-*
ance in classic times, nowhere put more cogently than in the famous
dialogue in the " Clouds " of Aristophanes. The old farmer Strepsi-
ades asks, " Whence comes the blazing thunderbolt that Zeus hurls at
the perjured?" " You fool," replies the Socrates of the play, " you
smack of old Kronos s times if Zeus smote perjurers, wouldn t he
have been down on those awful fellows Simon, and Kleonymos, and
Theoros ? Why, what Zeus does with his bolt is to smite his own
temple, and the heights of Sunium, and the tall oaks ! Do you mean
to say that an oak-tree can commit perjury ?" What is said here in
chaff full many a reasonable man in the old days must have said to
himself in the soberest earnest, and, once said or thought, but one re
sult could come of it the result which history shows us did come.
The venue of the judicial oath was gradually changed, till the later
kind, with its penalties transferred from earth to the region of de
parted souls, remained practically in possession of the field.

As a point in the science of culture, which has hitherto been
scarcely if at all observed, I am anxious to call attention to the his
torical stratification of judicial oaths, from the lowest stratum of
mundane oaths belonging to savage or barbaric times, to the highest

ORDEALS AND OATHS. 317

stratum of post-mundane oaths such as obtain among modern civilized
nations. Roughly, the development in the course of ages may be
expressed in the following two classifications :

Mundane } I Curse.

Mixed > Oaths, - Conditional Favor.

Post-Mundane ) ( Judgment.

Though these two series only partly coincide in history, they so
far fit that the judicial oaths of the lower culture belong to the class
of mundane curse, while those of the higher culture in general belong
to that of post-mundane judgment. Anthropologically, this is the
most special new view I have here to bring forward. It forms part
of a wider generalization, belonging at once to the science of morals
and the science of religion. But, rather than open out the subject
into this too wide field, we may do well to fix it in our minds by
tracing a curious historical point in the legal customs of our own
country. Every one knows that the modes of administering a judi
cial oath in Scotland and in England are not the same. In Scotland,
where the witness holds up his hand toward heaven, and swears to
tell the truth as he shall answer to God at the day of judgment, we
have before us the most explicit p ossible example of a post-mundane
oath framed on Christian lines. In contrasting this with the English
judicial oath, we first notice that our acted ceremony consists com
monly in taking a New Testament in the hand and kissing it. Thus,
unlike the Scotch oath, the English oath is sworn on a halidome
(Anglo-Saxon, hdligdom German, heiligthum),& holy or sacred object.
Many writers have fallen into confusion about this word, mystifying
it into sacred judgment or "holy doom;" but it is a perfectly
straightforward term for a sanctuary or relic, as " On tham haligdome
swerian " to swear by the relic. Now, this custom of swearing on
a halidome belongs to far pre-Christian antiquity, one famous exam
ple being when Hannibal, then a lad of nine years old, was brought
by his father to the altar and made to swear, by touching the sacred
things (tactis sacris), that when he grew* up he would be the enemy
of Rome. In classical antiquity the sacred objects were especially
the images and altars of the gods, as it is put in a scene in Plautus,
" Touch this altar of Venus ! " The man answers, " I touch it," and
then he is sworn. When this ancient rite came into use in early
Christian England, the object touched might be the altar itself, or a
relic-shrine like that which Harold is touching with his right fore
finger in the famous scene in the Bayeux tapestry, or it might be a
missal, or a book of the gospels. In modern England a copy of the
New Testament has become the recognized halidome on which oaths
are taken, and the practice of kissing it has almost supplanted the
older and more general custom of touching it with the hand.

Next, our attention must be called to the remarkable formula in
which (in England, not in Scotland) the invocation of the Deity is

318 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

made, " So help me God ! " or " So help you God ! " *Many a modern
Englishman puzzles over this obscure form of words. When the
question is asked what the meaning of the oath is, the official inter
pretation practically comes to saying that it means the same as the
Scotch oath. But neither by act nor word does it convey this mean
ing. So obvious is the discrepancy between what is considered to be
meant and what is actually done and said, that Paley, remarking on
the different forms of swearing in different countries, does not scruple
to say that they are " in no country in the world, I believe, worse
contrived either to convey the meaning, or impress the obligation of
an oath, than in our own."

This remark of Paley s aptly illustrates a principle of the science
of culture which cannot be too strongly impressed on the minds of all
who study the institutions of their own or any other age. People
often talk of mystic formulas and mystic ceremonies. But, the more
we study civilization in its earlier stages, the more we shall find that
formulas and ceremonies, both in law and in religion, are as purposeful
and business-like as can be, if only we get at them anywhere near
their origin. What happens afterward is this, that, while men s
thoughts and wants gradually change, the old phrases and ceremonies
are kept up by natural conservatism, so that they become less and
less appropriate, and then, as their meaning falls away, its place is apt
to be filled up with mystery. Applying this principle to the English-
oath formula, we ask what and where it originally was. It was Teu
tonic-Scandinavian, for, though corresponding formulas are known in
Latin (Ita me adjuvet Deus) and in Old French ( Ce rrCait Diex, etc.),
these are shown by their comparatively recent dates to be mere trans
lations of the Germanic originals. Now, although ancient English
and German records fail to give the early history of the phrase, this
want is fortunately supplied by a document preserved in Iceland.
Some while after the settlement of the island by the Northmen, but
long before their conversion to Christianity, the settlers felt the urgent
need of a code of laws, and accordingly TJlfliot went to Norway for
three years to Thorleif the Wise, who imparted to him his legal lore.
Ulfliot went to Norway A. D. 925, so that the form of judicial oath he
authorized, and which was at a later time put on record in the Ice
landic Landnamabok, may be taken as good and old in Norse law.
Its pre-Christian character is, indeed, obvious from its tenor. The
halidome on which it was sworn was a metal arm-ring, which was
kept by the godhi or priest, who reddened it with the blood of the ox
sacrificed, and the swearer touching it said, in words that are still
half English : "Name I to witness that I take oath by the ring, law-
oath, so help me Frey, and Niordh, and Almighty Thor (hialpi mer
sva Freyr, ok Niordhr, ok hinn almattki Ass) as I shall this suit fol
low or defend, or witness bear or verdict or doom, as I wit Tightest
and soothest and most lawfully," etc. Here, then, we have the full

ORDEALS AND OATHS. 319

and intelligible formula which must very nearly represent that of
which we keep a mutilated fragment in our English oath. So close is
the connection, that two of the gods referred to, Frey and Thor (who
is described as the almighty god), are the old English gods whose
names we commemorate in Friday and Thursday. The formula be
longs, with the classic ones lately spoken of, to the class of oaths of
conditional favor, " so help me as I shall do rightly," while Frey and
Nio rdh are gods whom a Norse warrior would ask for earthly help, but
who would scarcely concern themselves with his soul after death. It is
likely that the swearer was not indeed unmindful of what the skalds
sang of Nastro nd, the strand of corpses, that loathly house arched of the
bodies of huge serpents, whose heads, turned inward, dripped venom
on the perjurers and murderers within. But the primary formula is,
as I have said, that of the oath of conditional favor, not of judgment.
With the constituents of the modern English oath now fairly before
us, we see that its incoherence, as usual in such cases, has an histori
cal interpretation. What English law has done is to transplant from
archaic fetich-worship the ceremony of the halidome or consecrated
object, and to combine with this one-half of a pre-Christian formula
of conditional favor, without the second half which made sense of it.
Considering that to this combination is attached a theological inter
pretation which is neither implied in act nor word, we cannot wonder
if in the popular mind a certain amount of obscurity, not to say mys
tery, surrounds the whole transaction. Nevertheless, we may well
deprecate any attempt to patch up into Scotch distinctness and con
sistency the old formula, which will probably last untouched so long
as judicial oaths shall remain in use in England.

Being in the midst of this subject, it may not be amiss to say a
few words upon old and new ideas as to the administration of oaths
to little children. The Canon Law expressly forbade the exacting of
an oath from children under fourteen pueri ante annos XIV non
cogantur jurare. This prohibition is derived from yet earlier law.
The rough old Norsemen would not take oaths from children, as
comes out so quaintly in the saga of Baldur, where the goddess made
all the beasts and birds and trees swear they would not harm him,
but the little mistletoe only she craved no oath from, for she thought
it was too young. Admitting the necessity of taking children s evi
dence somehow, the question is how best to do it. In England it
must be done on oath, and for this end there has arisen a custom in
our courts of putting the child through an inquisition as to the theo
logical consequences of perjury, so as usually to extract from it a well-
known definition which the stiffest theologian will not stand to for a
moment if put straight to him, but which is looked upon as a proper
means for binding the conscience of a little child. 1 Moreover, children

1 Two illustrative cases are given me by a friend learned in the law. In court lately,
a little girl was asked the usual preliminary question as to the consequence of swearing

320 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in decent families learn to answer plain questions some years before
they learn to swear, and material evidence is often lost by the child
not having been taught beforehand the proper answers to make when
questioned as to the nature of an oath. I heard of a case only lately,
which was expected to lead to a committal on a charge of murder, and
where an important point rested on the evidence of a young lad who
was, to all appearance, truthful, but who did not satisfy the bench
that he understood the nature of an oath. Those in whom the cere
mony of swearing a child arouses the feeling of physical repugnance
that it does in myself, may learn with interest a fact as yet little
known in England, and which sufficiently justifies my bringing for
ward the subject. Hearing that there was something to be learned
from Germany, I applied to the eminent jurist, Dr. Gneist, of Berlin,
and hear from him that under the new German rules of procedure,
which are expected shortly to come into force, the evidence of children
under sixteen may be received without oath, at the discretion of the
judge. In these days there is a simple rule which an Englishman will
do well to act up to, and that is, " Don t be beaten by a German ! "
Let us live in the heartiest fellowship with the Germans, and never
let them get ahead of us if we can help it. In this matter of children s
legal evidence, they are fairly leaving us behind, by introducing a
plan which is at once more humane and more effective than ours.

If, now, looking at the subject as one of practical sociology, we
consider what place the legal oath has filled in savage, barbaric, and
civilized life, we must adjudge to it altogether higher value than to
the ordeal. At certain stages of culture it has been one of the great
forces of society. There was a time when Lycurgus could tell the
men of Athens that the oath was the very bond that held the democ
racy together. There was a time when, as Montesquieu insists, an
oath was so binding on the minds of the Romans, that for its observ
ance they would do more than even patriotism or love of glory could
draw them to. In our own day, its practical binding power is unmis
takable over the consciences of a numerous intermediate class of
witnesses, those who are neither truthful nor quite reckless, who are
without the honesty which makes a good man s oath superfluous, who
will indeed lie solemnly and circumstantially, but are somewhat re
strained from perjury by the fear of being, as the old English saying
has it, " once forsworn, ever forlorn." Though the hold thus given is
far weaker than is popularly fancied, it has from time to time led

falsely, and answered in due form, "Please, sir, I should go to burning hell !" Unluck
ily, however, the unusual question was then put, how she knew that ? which brought the
reply, " Oh, please, another girl outside told me I was to say so ! " It is bar tradition,
though there may be no record in print, that years ago the most sarcastic of English
judges put the whole matter in a nutshell. The question having been asked of a child
witness, if she knew what would become of her when she died, she answered simply,
" Don t know, sir 1 " whereupon the judge said, u Well, gentlemen, no more do I know
but the child s evidence cannot be taken."

ORDEALS AND OATHS. 321

legislators to use oaths, not merely in special and solemn matters, but
as means of securing honesty in the details of public business. When
this has been done, the consequences to public morals have been dis
astrous. There is no need to hunt up ancient or foreign proofs of this,
seeing how conspicuous an instance is the state of England early in the
present century, while it was still, as a contemporary writer called it,
" a land of oaths," and the professional perjurer plied a thriving trade.
A single illustration will suffice, taken from the valuable treatise on
Oaths, published in 1834, by the Rev. James Endell Tyler: "During
the continuance of the former system of custom-house oaths, there
were houses of resort where persons were always to be found ready at
a moment s warning to take any oath required ; the signal of the busi
ness for which they were needed was this inquiry, Any damned soul
here ? " Nowadays this enormous excess of public oaths has been
much cut down, and with the best results. Yet it must be evident to
students of sociology that the world will not stop short at this point.
The wider question is coming into view, What effect is produced on
the every-day standard of truthfulness by the doctrine that fraudulent
lying is in itself a minor offense, but is converted into an awful crime
by the addition of a ceremony and a formula? It is an easily-stated
problem in moral arithmetic ; on the credit side, Government is able
to tighten with an extra screw the consciences of a shaky class of wit
nesses and public officers ; on the debit side, the current value of a
man s word is correspondingly depreciated through the whole range
of public and private business. As a mere sober student of social
causes and effects, following along history the tendencies of opinion,
I cannot doubt for a moment how the public mind must act on this
problem. I simply predict that where the judicial ordeal is already
gone, there the judicial oath will sooner or later follow. Not only do
symptoms of the coming change appear from year to year, but its
greatest determining cause is unfolding itself day by day before ob
servant eyes, a sight such as neither we nor our fathers ever saw
before.

How has it come to pass that the sense o the sanctity of intel
lectual truth, and the craving after its full and free possession, are so
mastering the modern educated mind ? This is not a mystery hard to
unravel. Can any fail to see how in these latter years the methods
of scientific thought have come forth from the laboratory and the mu
seum to claim their powers over the whole range of history and philos
ophy, of politics and morals ? Truth in thought is fast spreading its
wide waves through the outside world. Of intellectual truthfulness,
truthfulness in word and act is the outward manifestation. In all
modern philosophy there is no principle more fertile than the doctrine
so plainly set forth by Herbert Spencer that truth means bringing
our minds into accurate matching with the realities in and around us;
so that both intellectual and moral truth are bound up together in

VOL. IX. 21

322 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that vast process of evolution whereby man is gradually brought into
fuller harmony with the universe he inhabits. There need, then, be
no fear that the falling away of such artificial crutches as those whose
history I have here been tracing should leave public truth maimed
and halting. Upheld by the perfect fitting of the inner mir.d to the
outer world, the progress of truth will be firmer and more majestic
than in the ancient days. If, in time to come, the grand old disputa
tion before King Darius were to be reenacted, to decide again the
question, "What is the strongest of all things? " it would be said, as
then, that " Truth abides, and is strong for evermore, living and con
quering from age to age." And the people as of old would say again
with one voice, "Truth is great, and prevails!" Advance-sheets
of Jfacmillan s Magazine.

THE CHROMIS PATEK-FAMTLIAS.

BY DR. LORTET.

~T TP to the present we know but a small number of fishes which
\~J hatch their eggs and bring up their young in the cavity of the
mouth or among the gills. Agassiz, during his voyage on the Ama-
zonas, discovered one species. Afterward there was brought from
China the macropod, the singular habits of which are now known to
all the world. All these species belong to the great group of the
Labyrinthobranchiata / and Agassiz supposes that the fishes of this
order only can hatch their eggs in so abnormal a manner, thanks
to the branchial pockets which allow of the eggs being easily kept in
place. But the Chromis, of which we give a faithful representation,
proves the assertion of Agassiz to be erroneous. The C/tromis pater
familias has the gills disposed in simple laminae ; it is unprovided
with any special apparatus for retaining the eggs or the young ones,
and yet it brings up al*mt 200 young in the mouth and gills. It is
always the male that performs these functions of incubation. After
the female has deposited the eggs in a depression of the sand or be
tween the tufts of reeds, the male approaches and takes them by in
halation into the cavity of the mouth. From there some movement,
the mechanism of which we have not been able to observe, sends them
between tlie leaflets of the gills. The pressure exerted on the eggs by
the branchial lafninae suffices to keep them in place. There, in the midst
of the organs of. respiration, the eggs undergo all their metamorphoses.
The young ones grow rapidly, and soon appear much inconvenienced
in their narrow prison. They leave it, not by the gills but through
the opening by which the bronchial cavity communicates with the

1 1 Esdras iv. 41 : ^ydx-n ^ d\^0ea, /cci faepiffx*" M<*ffn<u est veritas, et prawalet.

THE CHROMIS PATER-FAMILIAS.

323

mouth. Here they remain in great number, pressed against one
another like the seeds of a pomegranate. The animal s mouth becomes
so distended by the presence of this numerous progeny tha t actually
the jaws cannot meet. The cheeks are swollen and the animal pre-

sents the strangest aspect. Some of the young, arrived at the perfect
state, continue to live in the gills. All have the head directed toward
the buccal opening of the father, the protecting cavity of which we
have not seen them leave even for a moment. Though so numerous,

3 2 4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

they hold their ground very firmly, yet how they do so we have-
not discovered. Neither can we understand how the nursing lather
avoids swallowing his progeny ; we are also ignorant at what period
of their life the young ones leave the paternal mouth to live inde
pendently.

The Chromis pater-famiUas is 7 inches long by If inch thick.
The teeth are very fine and sharp, disposed in several rows. The
snout is obtuse, conical, the upper profile oblique. The nasal promi
nence is very conspicuous. The caudal fin is almost truncated. The
soft rays of the dorsal reach to the beginning of the caudal. The
length of the body, including the tail, is 4| times its thickness. The
snout is in length twice the diameter of the orbit. The mouth is
slightly oblique, large, as wide as it is long. The teeth are slightly
recurved, disposed in three or four rows, tinged with deep yellow at
the free end. The first row presents 26 on each side of the upper
maxillary. The fins show the number of rays following :

Dorsal 14+11

Anal.... 3+8

Caudal 16

Pectoral 12

Ventral 1+ 5

The lateral line comprises 32 scales disposed 20 + 12. The scales
are cycloidal, their length greater than their breadth ; three-fourths
of their surface is covered by the succeeding scales. Color, olive-
green on the back, barred with blue. The belly has a silvery lustre,
with green and blue spots.

I caught this interesting species, with a net, on the 29th of
April, 1875, in shallow water full of reeds, on the margin of Lake
Tiberias, at a place called Ain-Tin, the ancient Capernaum. There
are numerous warm springs there which unite to form a rather con
siderable stream. It is in these warm waters that the Chromis live*.
La Nature.

BIGOTRY IN SCIENTIFIC CONTROVERSY. 1

MANY edifying commonplaces might doubtless be written on the
intellectual fermentation, if it may not rather be called confu
sion of the age. Nor can it be denied that tendencies supposed to
have been long ago slain and sepulchred have risen again, and are
asserting themselves with a hardihood which our fathers would have
deemed impossible. When we find a scientific work at any rate a
work written by an eminent scientific man, and devoted to the dis-

1 " Lessons from Nature. By St. George Mivart, F. R. S." New York : D. Appleton
&Co.

BIGOTRY IX SCIENTIFIC CONTROVERSY. 325

cussion of scientific questions formally dedicated to a dignitary of
the Catholic Church as a vindicator of the rights of conscience (!),
we may well ask, not jeeringly but sadly, " What is truth ? " We
have witnessed of late brilliant progress in various departments of
science ; but we have also seen attacks made upon the very foun
dations of science. These onslaughts are increasing in frequency
and in boldness. Metaphysicians and ecclesiastics are calling in
question the inductive method, impugning the independence of Sci
ence, and seeking to reassert over her the authority of " the Church."
The battles of the sixteenth century seem about to be repeated.
And some, who might claim to be the heirs of Galileo, think it no
ignominy to wear the livery of Bellarmin and Caccini.

When we first opened the book which has suggested our present
article we fully expected to find an intellectual treat of the highest
order : its subject is one on which a most valuable work might well
be written, and few living men, indeed, are better qualified to un
dertake such a task than is Mr. Mivart. Anti-Darwinian polemics
we awaited, but such criticism, if conducted on legitimate that is,
on purely scientific principles, we should be among the first to
welcome, well knowing that in any issue Science must be the gainer.
Although believing in Evolution, we have never given to the hypoth
esis commonly known as " Darwinism " more than a qualified and pro
visional adhesion. While admitting that it has thrown a flood of light
over some of the most difficult questions in natural history, and has
brought into vital connection a previously incoherent mob of facts,
and that it is still a powerful and valuable instrument in the hands
of the inquirer, we cannot forget that it has its difficulties. Some of
these we have, on former occasions, endeavored to point out. Hence
we should cordially recognize any theory which should either supple
ment the doctrines of " Natural Selection " and " Sexual Selection,"
or modify them so as to get rid of their drawbacks and shortcomings.
Nay, we should be well pleased to find them superseded altogether by
a new hypothesis, adapted at once to the phenomena they have ex
plained and the residues and anomalies which they have hitherto left
unsolved. Such an hypothesis we thought Mr. Mivart might have
produced, or at least have attempted ; and the very attempt could
scarcely be made, from a legitimate point of view, without leading to
valuable results. Never were we more signally disappointed, although
in these days the title of a book is often intended to conceal, rather
than to reveal, its nature and object. The strange dedication was, in
truth, but too ominous of the contents. The work we found was not
constructive, but destructive. It consists of a series of attacks upon
a number of men who have done good service in different branches
of science, such as Dnrwin, Wallace, Huxley, Tyndall, Galton, Lub-
bock, Helmholtz, Oscar Schmidt or who have dealt with method
ology, such as Comte, Mill, Spencer, Lewes, etc. The doctrines of

326 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

natural selection and sexual selection are indeed discussed, and a
desperate effort is made to resuscitate the last-fading notion of a
" great gulf " between man and the lower animals. It is a curious
fact that in the old natural history man is supposed to hold, in rela
tion to other animals, a place very similar to that assigned by the
Lavoisierian chemistry to oxygen in relation to the remaining ele
ments. Unfortunately, in biology, passion, prejudice, and sophistry,
play a more important part than they do in chemistry and physics.
The discussion is based upon false principles. We all know the pas
sage in which Mr. Wallace specifies the kind of controversy which
alone can be recognized : " As his hypothesis is one which claims
acceptance solely as explaining and connecting facts which exist in
Nature, he expects facts alone to be brought to disprove it." This
method of discussion finds here comparatively little favor. Theories
are tested by their supposed moral or religious bearings, or by their
agreement with the author s a priori views. If we bring facts to
prove the existence of reason in animals, we are told that we do not
know what reason is ; if we find in them evidences of moral life, it is
said that we have " not even the faintest conception of what a moral
nature is." If we sho vv that they possess language, there follows the
ready quirk that we confound emotional language with intellectual.
That Mr. Mivart s own views of moral nature and of reason must be
correct, no one, of course, is supposed to doubt ; nor is the spirit of
the argument sounder than its method. The author speaks, not as a
judge calmly weighing the arguments on either side, and anxious
merely that the truth should be ascertained, but as a passionate and
eager prosecuting counsel, or rather as a procureur du roi (king s at
torney), skillfully bringing forward every circumstance, every point
actual or inferred, relevant or irrelevant which may in any wise
damage the defendants, and with equal dexterity concealing whatso
ever might tell in their favor. Deep personal hatred toward the
" Agnostics " and their doctrines the odium theologicum in its most
malignant form pervades the entire book. Mr. Mivart may doubt
less be able to meet Mr. Darwin, Mr. Lewes, Mr. Spencer, or Dr. Hux
ley, on neutral ground or in private life, on terms of ordinary cour
tesy ; but it is because the man is better and greater than his book.
We find here nothing of that fine manly spirit expressed in the old
adage, " Plato is my friend, but truth is more my friend." On the
contrary, there is one passage in which Mr. Mivart almost seems to
apologize for having, on some former occasion, spoken of Mr. Darwin
with too much courtesy. For this he has now atoned to an extent
almost ludicrous. We should not have felt in the least surprised had
we found it proved of course by strictly metaphysical arguments
that the author of the "Origin of Species" is the veritable trans
gressor w r ho

1 " Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection, p. 13.

BIGOTRY IN SCIENTIFIC CONTROVERSY. 327

" Filled the butchers shops with large blue flies,"
or who

" With foul earthquakes ravaged the Caracas,
And raised the price of sugars and tobaccos."

Suppose, in all sober sadness, an inquirer knowing nothing more
of Darwin than what he might learn out of " Lessons from Nature."
Would he not go away with the impression that our great English
naturalist had done little beyond launching a " puerile hypothesis,"
and had played a very unimportant and, if anything, rather injuri
ous part in the development of biological science ? Yet every can
did critic must admit that, were the theory of natural selection
superseded to-morrow, to Darwin would still belong the merit of
effecting in natural history a transformation as signal as that wrought
in astronomy by Galileo, Copernicus, and Kepler, or in chemistry by
Lavoisier ; of bestowing upon zoology and botany a definite purpose
and a direction for research such as before were wanting. His works
would still remain a treasury of observations and of suggestions, and
the impulse he has given to the science would never die away. In
England, Germany, America, naturalists have sprung up as if by
magic in obedience to his spell, and Mr. Mivart himself can hardly be
excluded from their number.

We need scarcely add that a critic unjust to persons will not b*
much more trustworthy as regards their discoveries and their doc
trines. The evidence in favor of natural selection and indeed of
evolution altogether is strictly cumulative, and as such, whatever
weight it may carry to the patient and dispassionate inquirer, it is
peculiarly open to the attacks of an opponent at one skillful and un
scrupulous. We do not, of course, mean to accuse Mr. Mivart of
deliberate unscrupulousness. We all know the words in themselves
literally reeking with hypocrisy in which " the Church " pronounced
sentence of death on Giordano Bruno : u Ut quam dementis sime et citra
sanguinis effusionem puniretur " (Let him be punished as leniently as
may be, and without shedding blood). Yet even on that occasion
we should be reluctant to declare that the judges were sinning
against better light and knowledge. Just so here : Mr. Mivart doubt
less believes and feels what he says, and considers his own line of
criticism fair and honorable. We know that man is an adept in self-
delusion, and of all men the metaphysician who has cultivated the art
s egarer avec m&hode (of going astray methodically) is most likely to
go unconsciously astray.

We come now to a most painful subject, which, indeed, we would
gladly pass over were not its consideration absolutely imperative.
Mr. Mivart complains that in one particular instance Mr. Darwin de
parts from his ordinary courtesy to opponents. We are therefore
justified in assuming that he regards courtesy to opponents as a duty
at least in others. Bearing in mind this circumstance, we turn to

328 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

page 144, and read : " It is in one respect a calamity of our time and
country that unbelievers, instead of, as in France, honestly avowing
their sentiments, disguise them by studious reticence as Mr. Darwin
at first studiously disguised his views as to the bestiality (!) of man,
and as the late Mr. Mill silently allowed himself to be represented to
the public as a thorough believer in God." Along with this passage
we take the remarks on " Mr. Winwood Reade, a friend and ardent
disciple of Mr. Darwin," and on the teachings of " our English physical
expositors" (pp. 393-395), and then ask whether the author is not, by
implication at least, charging Mr. Darwin with atheism ? This is the
more probable, as we can find no saving clause or limitation guarding
against such a construction being put upon these passages. Still, in
a charge so grave the accused is entitled to the benefit of the faintest
doubt, and Mr. Mivart may therefore claim a verdict of " Not proven."
It is time, however, that -we came to a full understanding about the
foul practice of introducing charges of atheism in scientific contro
versy. On this subject we beg to offer the following considerations :

1. Charges of "heresy," "infidelity," or "atheism," are beside the
question. If a theory in astronomy, in geology, in physics, chemis
try, or biology, is in doubt, let it be judged on its own evidence; that
is, let it be compared respectively with astronomical, geological, phys
ical, chemical, or biological facts, and, according as it is able or un
able to account for and to harmonize such, let it stand or fall. The
man who is unable or unwilling to do this convicts himself, from an
intellectual point of view, either of impotence or perversity, and should
leave controversy to others.

2. Such charges, further, are delusive. Not to speak of the thor
oughly-trained scholar, even many of the "half-educated" know that
almost every important discovery in science has been denounced by
the " parti prdtre" (clerical party) as impious, heretical, and atheistic.
A yearly volume of the Quarterly Journal of Science would not con
tain the abuse uttered by ecclesiastics against the Copernican theory
of the solar system, against the doctrine of a plurality of worlds, the
Newtonian view of the universe, the nebular hypothesis, the chro
nology of modern geologists, etc. Yet all these views, and many
more which might be mentioned, were found when passion had
cooled and sober judgment had time to decide perfectly compatible,
not with theism merely, but with Christian revelation. What " the
Church " has cursed in one generation, she " assimilates " in the next.
What educated man, then, after reviewing the past, can dare to set
aside modern theories in such a manner ?

3. Such charges are, further, distinctly immoral, and even crimi
nal. All civilized countries brand with ignominy the suitor or the
advocate who suborns false witnesses, forges or destroys documents,
or corrupts judges and juries. But the controversialist who charges
his opponent with atheism stands in a precisely similar position. He

BIGOTRY IN SCIENTIFIC CONTROVERSY. 329

well knows that, although the public might not admit, totidem verbis
(in so many words), that "whatever an atheist advances must be
false," or that " every theory once pronounced atheistic must be erro
neous," yet it will practically act as if such propositions were estab
lished. Hence by making such charges he fraudulently attempts to
steal from the public, through an appeal to their passions, a verdict
which he has no hope of obtaining from their reason. Knowing and
trading on the extreme animosity with which the heretic, the skeptic,
and the atheist are rightly or wrongly regarded, he seeks to deprive
his opponents of a fair hearing by applying to them these dreaded
names. A meaner, a more infamous stratagem can scarcely be con
ceived. Yet more: it is not the man conscious of the goodness of his
cause who fights with such weapons. He who knows that his views
are in harmony with facts has nothing to gain by foul play ; but if he
feels inward misgivings concerning the doctrines which he advocates,
or doubts at least the possibility of bringing forward valid arguments
in their defense, he may readily, if dishonest enough, seek to blacken
the character of an opponent.

We may, therefore, safely and fairly conclude that whosoever in
scientific controversy introduces accusations of atheism is, if not
knowingly and willfully, still decidedly in the wrong. We are conse
quently fully justified in shutting hie, book, and giving judgment
against him.

But there is another consideration which here forces itself upon
our attention. All writings calculated to bring a man into general
" ridicule, hatred, or contempt," are by the law declared to be libel-
ous. Now, it is very questionable if, in England, any accusation is
so much calculated to bring a man into "hatred and contempt" as a
charge of atheism or "materialism," however ill-founded it maybe.
Surely therefore such charges, whether brought directly or by impli
cation, are libelous, and as such they are more fitted to be dealt with
by a criminal court than by reviewers. We should like to see such a
case decided, and we believe that the result would be a great improve
ment in the tone of scientific and semi-scientific controversy.

But even if such accusations should be pronounced not libelous,
and. if those who resort to them have no legal penalties to dread,
there is another tribunal which might interfere. Why should not
scientific men, scientific societies, and scientific journals, agree that
whosoever in a scientific controversy attempts to get rid of an oppo
nent by raising the cry of atheism should be held to be ipso facto an
outlaw, and to be no longer entitled to the treatment of a gentleman
and a scholar? Nay, why should not other charges affecting the per
sonal character of an opponent be dealt with in a similar manner?
We do not, of course, seek to screen the man who can be proved to
have suppressed documents, cooked results, or claimed as his own dis
coveries those which he well knew belonged to another. W<? refer to

330 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

those random charges of dishonesty and mendacity, and those sweep
ing ascriptions of motive which are unfortunately so common. Thus
we have often heard and seen it asserted that the authors of some
particular theory were actuated by a desire to disprove the existence
of a God, to subvert the Christian religion or some particular form of
it, or to injure public morals. To such assertors we would reply :
"Prove your charge by evidence, such as would satisfy an impartial
court of justice, or take the consequences, which will not be pleas
ant ! " We are here reminded that in the very passage in Mr.
Mivart s book (p. 144), in which he comes unpleasantly near charg
ing Mr. Darwin with atheism, he brings forward against the same
gentleman something very like an accusation of dishonesty. It is
perfectly true that in the " Origin of Species " Mr. Darwin does not
pronounce as to whether mankind had or had not been gradually
evolved from some lower form of animal life. But reticence is very
different from dishonesty. A thinker is not absolutely bound to bring
his speculations to light at all ; for keeping them back, while he is
accumulating and weighing the evidence for and against them, he
deserves praise rather than censure. Nay, even for introducing doc
trines gradually, as the public are able to bear them, there is certainly
authority which Mr. Mivart cannot consistently impugn. Nor must
we forget that Mr. Darwin has, from the first, nowise courted pub
licity for his view s. But for the fact that Mr. Wallace was known to
be preparing a work of a somewhat similar nature, even the " Origin
of Species " might never have seen the light.

There may be persons who will be aggrieved at this expression of
our views on the subject of scientific controversies ; but if they feel
themselves guiltless they may cheerfully exclaim, " Let the galled jade
wince." As for those who have actually made the kind of charges
we protest against, they have no claim to lenity or forbearance.

Controversies on theories in the various inorganic sciences have
been carried on with no little acrimony. But charges of atheism are,
at least, banished. Why may not this reform be extended to biology
and psychology? Those who cannot treat these subjects from a
purely scientific point of view may serve to test the patience of unfor
tunate reviewers, but they cannot lead us to the truth. Extract from
Article in the Quarterly Journal of Science.

LESSORS IN ELECTRICITY.

LESSONS IN ELECTEICITY. 1

HOLIDAY LECTURES AT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION.

BY PROF. TYNDALL, F. K. S.

IV.

SECTION 17. History of the Ley den- Jar. The next discovery
which we have to master throws all former ones into the shade.
It was first announced in a letter addressed on the 4th of November,
1745, to Dr. Lieberktihn, of Berlin, by Kleist, a clergyman of Cammin,
in Pomerania. By means of a cork, (7, Fig. 23, he fixed a nail, N, in a
phial, 6r, into which he had poured a little mercury, spirits, or water,
W. On electrifying the nail he was able to pass from one room into
another with the phial in his hand and to ignite spirits of wine with
it. " If," said he, " while it is electrifying I put my finger, or a piece
of gold which I hold in my hand, to the nail, I receive a shock which
stuns my arms and shoulders."

In the following year Cunjeus, of Leyden, made substantially the

FIG. 23.

Fio. 24.

FIG. 25.

same discovery. It caused great wonder and dread, which arose
chiefly from the excited imagination. Musschenbroek felt the shock,
and declared in a letter to a friend that he would not take a second
one for the crown of France. Bleeding at the nose, ardent fever, a
heaviness of head which endured for days, were all ascribed to the
shock. Boze wished that he might die of it, so that he might enjoy
the honour of having his death chronicled in the " Paris Academy of
Sciences." Kleist missed the explanation of the phenomenon ; while

i A course of six lectures, with simple experiments in fractional electricity, before
juvenile audiences during the Christmas holidays.

33 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the Ley den philosophers correctly stated the conditions necessary to
the success of the experiment. Hence the phial received the name of
the Leyden-phial, or Leyden-jar.

The discovery of Rleist and Cuna3us excited the most profound
interest, and the subject was explored in all directions. Wilson, in
1746, filled a phial partially with water, and plunged it into water,
so as to bring the water surfaces, within and without, to the same
level. On charging such a phial the strength of the shock was found
greater than had been observed before.

Two years subsequently Dr. Watson and Dr. Bevis noticed how
the charge grew stronger as the area of the conductor in contact with
the outer surface increased. They substituted shot for water inside
the jar, and obtained substantially the same effect. Dr. Bevis then
coated a plate of glass on both sides with silver-foil, within about an
inch of the edge, and obtained from it discharges as strong as those
obtained from a phial containing half a pint of water. Finally, Dr.
Watson coated his phial inside and out with silver-foil. By these
steps the Leyden-jar reached the form which it possesses to-day.

It is easy to repeat the experiment of Dr. Bevis. Procure a glass
plate nine inches square ; cover it on both sides with tin-foil six inches
square. Connect one side with the earth and the other with the
machine. Charge and discharge : you obtain a brilliant spark.

In our experiment with the golden fish (Fig. 22), we employed a
common form of the Leyden-jar, only with the difference that to get
to a sufficient distance from the glass, so as to avoid the attraction of
the fish by the jar itself, the knob was placed higher than usual. But,
with a good flint-glass tumbler, a piece of tin-foil, and a bit of wire,
you can make a jar for yourself. Bad glass, remember, is not rare.
In Fig. 24 you have such a jar. T is the outer, T the inner coating,
reaching to within an inch of the edge of the tumbler G. W is the
bit of wire fastened below by wax, and surmounted by a knob, which
may be of metal, or of wax or wood, coated with tin-foil. In charging
the jar you connect the outer coating with the earth say with a gas-
pipe or a water-pipe and present the knob to the conductor of your
machine. A few turns will charge the jar. It is discharged by lay
ing one knob of a " discharger " against the outer coating, and causing
the other knob to approach the knob of the jar. Before contact, the
electricity flies from knob to knob in the form of a spark.

A " discharger " suited to our means and purposes is shown in Fiir.
25. // is a stick of sealing-wax : W W a stout wire bent as in the
figure, and ending in the knobs J3 B . These may be of wax coated
with tin-foil. Any other light conducting knobs would of course
answer. The insulating handle H protects you effectually from the
shock.

SEC. 18. Explanation of the Ley den - Jar. The principles of
electrical induction with which you are now so familiar will enable

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY.

333

you to thoroughly analyze and understand the action of the Leyden-
jar. In charging the jar, the outer coating is connected with the
earth and the inner coating with the electrical machine. Let the
machine, as usual, be of glass yielding positive electricity. When it
is worked the electricity poured into the jar acts inductively across
the glass upon the outer coating ; attracting its negative and repelling
its positive to the earth. Two mutually attractive electric layers are
thus in presence of each other, being separated merely by the glass.
When the machine is in good order and the glass of the jar is thin,
the attraction may be rendered strong enough to perforate the jar.

Franklin saw and announced with clearness the escape of the
electricity from the outer coating of the jar. His statement is that,
whatever be the quantity of the " electric lire" thrown into the jar,
an equal quantity was dislodged from the outside. We have now
to prove by actual experiment that this explanation is correct.

Place your Leyden-jar upon a table, and connect the outer coating
with your electroscope. There is no divergence of the leaves when
electricity is poured into the jar.

But here the outer coating is connected through the table with the
earth. . Let us cut off this communication by an insulator. Place the
jar upon a board supported by warm tumblers, or upon a piece ol
vulcanized India-rubber cloth, and again connect the outer coating
with the electroscope. The moment electricity is communicated to
the knob of the jar the leaves of Dutch metal diverge. Detach the
wire by your discharger and test the quality of the electricity it is
positive, as theory declares it must be.

Consider now the experiment of Kleist and Cunseus (Fig. 23).
You will, I doubt not, penetrate its meaning. You will see that in
their case the hand formed the outer coating of the jar. When
electricity was communicated through the nail to the water within,
that electricity acted across the glass inductively upon the hand, at
tracting the one fluid and repelling the other to the earth.

Again I say, prove all things ; and what is here affirmed may be
proved by the following beautiful and conclusive experiment : Stand
on your board, insulated by its four tumblers ; or upon a sheet of
gutta-percha, or vulcanized India-rubber. Seize the old Leyden-phial
with your left hand, and touch the electroscope with the right, or with
a lath or a wire held in the right. When electricity is communicated
to the nail, the leaves immediately diverge by the electricity driven
from your left hand through your body to the electroscope.

Here the nail may be electrified either by connectiyg it with the
prime conductor of the machine, or by simply rubbing it with an
excited glass rod. Indeed, I should prefer your resorting to the sim
plest and cheapest means in making these experiments.

As a thoughtful and reflective boy you cannot, I think, help won
dering at the power which your thorough mastery of the principles

334 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of induction gives you over these wonderful and complicated phenom
ena. By those principles the various facts of our science are bound
together to an organic whole. But we have not yet exhausted the
fruit fulness of this principle.

Consider the following problem. Usually we allow the electricity
of the outer coating to escape to the earth. Suppose we try to utilize
it. Place, then, your jar upon vulcanized India-rubber, and connect
its outer coating by a wire with the knob or inner coating of a second
jar. What will occur when the first jar is charged ? Why, the
second one will be charged also by the electricity which has escaped
from the outer coating of the first. And suppose you connect the
outer coating of the second insulated jar with the inner coating of a
third; what occurs? The third jar will obviously be charged with
the electricity repelled from the outer coating of the second. Of
course, we need not stop here. We may have a long series of insu
lated jars, the outer coating of each being connected with the inner
coating of the next succeeding one. Connect the outer coating of the
last jar with the earth, and charge the first jar. You charge thereby
the entire Series of jars. In this simple way you master practically,
and grasp the theory of the celebrated " cascade battery " of Frank
lin, represented in Fig. 26, with coated glass tumblers, J, -#, C, 7>,

FIG. 2G.

and so on. You must see that, before making the experiment, you
could really have predicted w r hat would occur. This power of i re
vision is one of the most striking characteristics of science.

SEC. 19. Novel Leyden-Jars of the Simplest Form. But, possessed
of its principles, we can reduce the Leyden-jar to a far simpler form
than any hitherto dealt with. Spread a sheet of tin-foil smoothly
upon a table, and lay upon the foil a pane of glass, somewhat
smaller than the foil in size. Remember that the glass, as usual, must
be dry. Stick on to the glass by sealing-wax two loops of narrow
silk ribbon, by which the pane may be lifted ; and then lay smoothly
upon the glass a second sheet of tin-foil, less than the pane in size.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 335

Carry a fine wire from the upper sheet of tin-foil to your electroscope.
A little weight will keep the end of the wire attached to the tin-foil.

Rub this weight with your excited glass tube, two or three times
if necessary, until you see a slight divergence of the Dutch metal
leaves. Or, connecting the weight with the conductor of your ma
chine, turn very carefully until the slight divergence is observed.
What is the condition of things here ? You have poured, say, positive
electricity on to the upper sheet of metal. It will act inductively
across the glass upon the under sheet, the positive fluid of which will
escape to the earth, leaving tbe negative behind. You see before
your mind s eye two layers holding each other in bondage. Now,
take hold of your loops and lift the glass plate, so as to separate the
upper tin-foil from the lower. What would you expect to occur?
Freed from the grasp of the lower layer, the electricity of the upper
one will diffuse itself over the electroscope so promptly and power
fully that, if you are not careful, you will destroy the instrument by
the mutual repulsion of its leaves.

Practise this experiment, which is perfectly easy and perfectly
beautiful, by lowering and lifting the glass plate, and observing the
corresponding rhythmic action of the leaves of the electroscope.
The experiment was shown here twelve years ago to boys and girls
who are now men and women.

Common tin-plate may be used in this experiment, instead of tin
foil, and a sheet of vulcanized India-rubber instead of the pane of
glass. Or, simpler still, for the tin-toil a sheet of common unwarmed
foolscap may be employed. Satisfy yourself of this. Spread a sheet
of foolscap on a table ; lay the plate of glass upon it, and spread a
leaf of foolscap, less than it in size, on the plate of glass. Connect
the leaf with the electroscope, and charge it exactly as you charged
the tin-foil. On lifting the glass with its leaf of foolscap, the leaves
of the electroscope instantly fly apart ; on lowering the glass, they
again fall together. Abandon the under sheet altogether, and make
the table the outer coating ; if it be not of very dry wood, or covered
by an insulating varnish, you will obtain with it the results obtained
with the tin-foil, tin, and foolscap.

The withdrawal of the electricity from the electroscope, by lower
ing the plate of glass, so as to bring the electricity of the upper coat
ing within the grasp of the lower one, is sometimes called " condensa
tion." The electricity on one plate or sheet was figured as squeezed
together, or condensed, by the attraction of the other. A special
instrument, called a condenser, is constructed by instrument-makers
to illustrate the action here explained.

You may readily make a condenser for yourself. Take two circles,
P P , Fig. 27, of tin or of sheet-zinc, and support the one, 7 J/ , by a
stick of sealing-wax or glass, G- ; the other, P, by a metal stem, con
nected with the earth. The insulated plate, P 7 , is called the collect-

33$

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing plate ; the uninsulated one, P, the condensing plate. Connect the
collecting plate with your electroscope by the wire, TF, and bring t he-
condensing plate near it, leaving, however, a thin space of air between
them. Charge the collector, P, or the wire, TFJ with your glass rod,
until the leaves of the electroscope begin to diverge. Withdraw tilt-
condensing plate, the leaves fly asunder; bring the condensing plate
near, the leaves again collapse.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIItilllllllllllJi^ Illlilllllll liilili

FIG. 27.

Or, vary your construction, and make your condenser thus: Em
ploying the table, or a sheet of foolscap if the table be an insulator,
as one plate of the condenser, spread upon it the sheet of India-rub
ber, P, Fig. 28, and lay upon the rubber the sheet of block-tin, A, 13.
Connect the tin by the wire, TFJ with the electroscope, T H L. Im
part electricity to the little weight, A, till the leaves, X, begin to
diverge; then lift the tin plate by its two silk loops; the leaves, ,
at once fly asunder.

Fio. 28.

Finally, show your complete knowledge of the Leyden-jar, and
your freedom from the routine of the instrument-makers, by making
a "jar," in the following novel way: Stand upon a board supported

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 337

by warm tumblers. Hold in your right hand a sheet of vulcanized
India-rubber, and clasp, with it between you, the left hand of a friend.
Place your left hand on the conductor of the machine, and let it be
worked. You and your friend soon feel a crackling and a tickling of
the hands, due to the heightening attraction of the opposite electrici
ties across the India-rubber. The hand-jar is then charged. To dis
charge it you have only to bring your other hands together: the
shock of the Leyden-jar is felt.

By the discharge of the hand-jar you can fire gunpowder. But this
will be referred to more particularly further on.

SEC. 20. Physiological Effects of the Shock. The physiological
effect of the shock was variously studied. Graham caused a number
of persons to lay hold of the same metal plate, which was connected
with the outer coating of a charged Leyden-jar, and also to lay hold
of a rod by which the jar was discharged. The shock divided itself
equally among them.

The Abbe Nollet formed a line of one hundred and eighty guards
men, and sent the discharge through them all. He also killed sparrows
and fishes by the shock. The analogy of these effects with those pro
duced by thunder and lightning could not escape attention, nor fail
to stimulate inquiry.

Indeed, as experimental knowledge increased, men s thoughts be
came more definite and exact as regards the relation of electrical
effects to thunder and lightning. The Abbe Nollet thus quaintly ex
presses himself: " If any one should take upon him to prove, from a
well-connected comparison of phenomena, that thunder is, in the hands
of Nature, what electricity is in ours, and that the wonders which we
now exhibit at our pleasure are little imitations of those great effects
which frighten us, I avow that this idea, if it was well supported,
would give me a great deal of pleasure." He then points out the
analogies between both, and continues thus: "All those points of
analogy, which I have been some time meditating, begin to make me
believe that one might, by taking electricity as the model, form to
one s self, in relation to thunder and lightning, more perfect and more
probable ideas than what have been offered hitherto. 1 "

These views were prevalent at this time, and out of them grew
the experimental proof by the great physical philosopher, Franklin,
of the substantial identity of the lightning-flash and the electric
spark.

Franklin was twice struck senseless by the shock. He afterward
sent the discharge of two large jars through six robust men ; they fell
to the ground and got up again without knowing what had happened;
they neither heard nor felt the discharge. Priestley, who made many
valuable contributions to electricity, received the charge of two jars,
but did not find it painful.

1 Priestley s " History of Electricity," pp. 151, 152.
VOL. ix. 22

338 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

This experience agrees with mine. In the theatre of the Royal
Institution, and in the presence of an audience, I once received the
discharge of a battery of fifteen Leyden-jars. Unlike Franklin s six
men, I did not fall, but, like them, I felt nothing. I was simply ex
tinguished for a sensible interval.

This may be regarded as an experimental proof that people killed
by lightning suffer no pain.

" SEC. 21. Seat of Charge in the Ley den- Jar. Franklin sought to
determine how the charge was hidden in the Leyden-jar. He charged
with electricity a bottle half-filled with water and coated on the out
side with tin-foil ; dipping the finger of one hand into the water, and
touching the outside coating with the other, he received a shock. He
was thus led to inquire, Is the electricity in the water ? He poured
the water into a second bottle, examined it, and found that it had
carried no electricity along with it.

His conclusion was, that "the electric fire must either have been
lost in the decanting or must have remained in the bottle. The latter
he found to be true ; for, filling the charged bottle with fresh water,
he obtained the shock, and was, therefore, satisfied that the power of
giving it resided in the glass itself." * An account of Franklin s dis
coveries was given by him in a series of letters addressed to Peter
Collinson, Esq., F.R.S., from 1747 to 1754.

So much for history ; but you are to verify the history by repeat
ing Franklin s experiments. Place water in a wide glass vessel ; place
a second glass vessel within the first, and fill it to the same height
with water. Connect the outer water by a wire with the earth, and
the inner water by a wire with the electric machine. One or two
turns furnish a sufficient charge. Removing the inner wire, and dip
ping one finger into the outside and the other into the inside water, a
smart shock is felt. This was Franklin s first experiment.

Pass on to the second. Coat a glass jar with tin-foil (not too high) ;
fill it to the same height with water, and place it on India-rubber
cloth. Charge it by connecting the outside coating with the earth,
and the water inside (by means of a stem cemented to the bottom of
the jar and a knob) with an electric machine. You obtain a bright
spark on discharging. This proves your apparatus to be in good
order.

Recharge. Take hold of the charged jar with the India-rubber,
and pour the water into a second similar jar. No sensible charge is
imparted to the latter. Pour fresh unelectrified water into the first
jar, and discharge it. The retention of the charge is shown by a
brilliant spark. Be careful in these experiments, or you will fail, as I
did at first. Note that the edge of the jar out of which the water is
poured is to be surrounded by a band of bibulous paper to catch the
final drop.

1 Priestley s " History of Electricity," third edition, p. 149.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY.

339

These experiments are now made by rendering the coatings of the
Leyden-jar movable. Such a jar may be charged, the interior coating
may be lifted out and proved unelectric. The glass may then be re
moved from the outer coating and the latter proved unelectric. Re
storing the jar and coatings, on connecting the two latter, the dis
charge passes in a brilliant spark.

Make a jar with movable coatings thus : Roll cartridge-paper
round a good flint-glass tumbler, 6r, Fig. 29, to within about an inch
of the top. Paste down the edge of the paper, and put a paper bot
tom to it corresponding to the bottom of the glass. Coat the paper,
T, inside and out with tin-foil. Make a similar coating, T , for the
inside of the tumbler, attaching to it an upright wire, TPJ ending in a
hook. You have then, to all intents and purposes, a Leyden-jar.

FIG, 29.

FIG. 30.

Charge the jar, and by means of a rod of glass, sealing-wax, or
gutta-percha, lift out the interior coating. It will carry a little elec
tricity away with it. Place it upon a table and discharge it wholly.
Lift the glass by the hand out of the outer coating. Neither of the
coatings now shows the slightest symptom of electricity. Restore
the tumbler to its outer coating, and, by means of the hook and in
sulating rod, restore the inner coating to its place. Discharge the
jar: you obtain a brilliant spark. The electricity which produces
this spark must have been resident in and on the glass.

You can charge your jar with a rubbed glass rod, though a machine
in good working order will do it more rapidly.

SEC. 22. Ignition by the Electric Spark. Various attempts had
been vainly made by Nollet and others to ignite inflammable sub
stances by the electric spark. This was first effected by Ludolf, at

340 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the opening of the Academy of Sciences by Frederick the Great, at
Berlin, on the 23d of January, 1744. With a spark from the sword
of one of the court cavaliers present on the occasion, Ludolf ignited
sulphuric ether.

Dr. Watson also made numerous experiments on the ignition of
bodies by the electric spark. He fired gunpowder and discharged
guns. Causing a spoon containing ether to be held by an electrified
person, he ignited the ether by the finger of an unelectrified person.
He also noticed that the spark varied in color when the substances be
tween which it passed varied.

These, and numerous other experiments, may be made with a far
simpler " machine " than any hitherto described. It was devised for
your benefit by Mr. Cottrell. In the electric machine, as we have
learned, the prime conductor is flooded with positive electricity
through the discharge of the negative from the points against the
excited glass. Your glass tube may be similarly turned to account.
A strip of sheet-brass or copper, P, Fig. 30, about five inches long
and one inch wide, is sewn on to the edge of the silk pad, 7?, employed
as a rubber. Through apertures in the strip of metal about twenty
pin-points are introduced and soldered to the metal. When the tube
is clasped by the amalgam-covered rubber, the metal strip and points
quite encircle the tube.

When a fine wire, w, connects the strip of metal with the knob of
a Leyden-jar, by every downward stroke the glass tube is powerfully
excited, and hotly following the exciting rubber is the circle of points.
From these, against the rod, negative electricity is discharged, the
free positive electricity escaping along the wire to the jar, which is
rapidly charged.

Connecting the strip of metal with an insulated metallic knob,
placed within a quarter or an eighth of an inch of an uninsulated
argand burner, at every downward stroke of the rubber a stream of
sparks passes between the knob and burner. If gas be turned on, it
is immediately ignited by the stream of sparks. Blowing out the
flame and repeating the experiment, a single stroke of the tube infal
libly ignites the gas. Sulphuric ether, in a spoon which has been
previously warmed, is thus ignited : but the ether soon cools by evap
oration ; its vapor is diminished, and it is then less easy to ignite.
Bisulphide of carbon may be substituted for the ether, with the cer
tainty that every stroll of the rubber will set it ablaze. 1 The spark
thus obtained also fires an electric pistol charged with a mixture of
oxygen and hydrogen. The two gases unite with explosion to form
water, when an electric spark is passed through them.

Mr. Cottrell has mounted his glass tube so as to render friction in
both directions available. The tube-machine is represented in Fig.

1 1 am indebted to Dr. Debus for the suggestion of the bisulphide as a substitute for
the ether.

LESSONS

ELECTRICITY

31. A B is the glass tube, clasped by the rubber, 72. P P are
strips of metal furnished with rows of points. From P P wires pro-
ceed* to the knob (7, which is insulated by the horizontal stem, 6r,
from the stand of the machine. This insulating stem may be abol
ished with advantage, the wires from P and P being rendered strong
enough to support the ball C. At C sparks may be taken, a Leyden-
jar charged, the electric mill turned, while wires carried from it may
be employed in experiments on ignition.

FIG. 31

" Seldom," says Riess, " has an experiment done so much to de
velop the science to which it belongs as this of the ignition of bodies
by the electric spark." It aroused universal interest : the experiment
was repeated in all royal houses. Money was ready for the further
prosecution of electrical research. The experiment afterward spread
among the people. Klingenstierna astonished King Frederick of Swe
den by igniting a spoon of alcohol with a piece of ice. Riess con
siders it probable that the general interest thus excited led to the
discovery of the Leyden-jar, which was made soon afterward.

Cadogan Morgan, in 1785, sought to produce the electric spark in
the interior of solid bodies. He inserted two wires into wood, and
caused the spark to pass between them : the wood was illuminated
with blood-red light, or with yellow light, according as the depth at
which, the spark was produced was greater or less. The spark of the
Leyden-jar produced within an ivory ball, an orange, an apple, or
under the thumb, illuminates these bodies throughout. A lemon is
especially suited to this experiment, flashing forth at every spark as
a spheroid of brilliant golden light. The manner in which the lemon
is mounted is shown in Fig. 32. The spark occurs at s. A row of
eggs is also brilliantly illuminated throughout at the passage of every
spark from a Leyden-jar.

342 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SEC. 23. Duration of the Electric Spark. The duration of the
electric spark is very brief: in a special case, Sir Charles Wheat -
stone found it to be ^^ tn f a second. This, however, wits tl,
maximum duration. In other cases it was less than the millionth of
a second.

FIG. 32. FIG. 33.

When a body is illuminated for an instant, the image of the body
remains upon the retina of the eye for a fraction of a second. If,
then, a body in swift motion be illuminated by an instantaneous flash,
it w r ill be seen to stand motionless for the fraction of a second at the
point where the flash falls upon it. A rifle-bullet passing through the
air, and illuminated by an electric flash, would be seen thus motion
less ; a circle like D D f , Fig. 33, divided into black and white sectors,
and rotating so quickly as to cause the sectors to blend to a uniform
gray, appears, when illuminated by the spark of a Leyden-jar, per
fectly motionless, with all its sectors revealed. A falling jet of water,
which appears continuous, is resolved by the electric flash into its
constituent drops.

For a long time it was found almost impossible to ignite gunpow
der by the electric spark, its duration was so brief; the powder, when
the discharge occurred in its midst, was simply scattered violently
about. In 1787 Wolff introduced into the circuit through which the
discharge passed a glass tube wetted on the inside. lie thereby ren
dered the ignition certain. This was owing to the retardation of the
spark by the imperfect conductor. Gun-cotton, phosphorus, and
amadou, which are torn asunder by the unretarded spark, are ignited
when the discharge is retarded by a tube of water. A w r etted string
is the usual means resorted to for retardation when gunpowder is to
be discharged.

The instrument usually employed for the ignition of powder is
called a universal discharger. It is represented in Fig. 34. ./and /
are insulating rods of glass or sealing-wax, supporting two metal
arms, the ends of which can be brought down upon the little central

CERTAIN PHASES OF BIRD-LIFE.

343

table. Surrounding their ends with powder at S, and sending through
the powder the unretarded charge, the powder is scattered mechani
cally. Introducing the wet string w into the circuit, it infallibly
ignites.

FIG. 34.

. CEETAIN PHASES OF BIKD-LIFE.

BY CHAKLES C. ABBOTT, M. D.

HVTOT WITHSTAND ING so general an interest has been taken in
-IN studying the habits of our birds, by both scientific and amateur
naturalists, there are several phases of bird-life to which little or no
attention has been paid ; at least scant reference, if any, has been
made to them, in ornithological literature.

One such feature of bird-life is the mode of acquiring the range of
flight-power characteristic of each species. A careful and long-con
tinued study of our birds in their chosen haunts, free from all unnatural
(i. e., human) persecution, has enabled me to detect but little variation
in the flight-powers of the individuals of any species of bird observed
far less than in the general range of their habits ; but still, such
individual variation, I think, does exist. A bird is not a perfectly-
adapted machine, capable of faultlessly filling its destined place in
Nature, and unerringly performing everything required of it. With
the simple growth of the feathers of the wing, there does not come
the ability to fly. Just as creeping precedes walking, in children, this
is a gradually-acquired power. The commencement may be termed

344 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

" flapping," and consists in simply breaking the force of a descent ;
this is followed by a more effectual use of the wings, and horizontal
progression, and it is some time subsequent to this that the young
birds attain to the power of upward flight. This holds good of a con
siderable number of species, studied with special reference to their
flight, as the robin, the wood-thrush, cedar-bird, cat-bird, pewee, and
indigo-bird.

It is doubtful if young birds, while yet in their nests, are conscious
of the use to be made of their wings. After long-continued experi
menting, I find they make no use of them, in endeavoring to escape,
but trust to their legs entirely, if removed from the nest, or defend
themselves by pecking at the intruder. When a sufficient growth of
feather has been obtained, the parent-birds, directly and indirectly,
instruct them; or, perhaps more properly, force them to use their
wings. So, at least, I can only interpret certain habitual actions of
the parent-birds with reference to their newly-fledged young.

As an instance I will quote from my field-notes, with reference to
the indigo-bird: "June 23, 1873. Found a nest of this species in
a dense thicket of blackberry, and, curiously enough, within just
seven paces of the railroad-track. The young birds were just ready
to leave the nest. I visited the nest the next day, and saw on my
approach one of the four young birds sitting on a brier-stem, about a
yard from the nest. Taking a favorable position, I continued to watch
the birds closely, as they were very restless and noisy. Evidently
something unusual had occurred or was occurring. In a few mo
ments I saw the hen-bird go to the nest and push one of the young
birds out of the nest. It forced it from the edge of the nest, to which
it clung with its feet. Once free, the little fellow struggled to keep
itself up, throwing up its wings, as a child would straighten out its
arms when falling. This was the initial movement that developed
into flight. All of the young birds were thus forced from the nest, and
I am satisfied from no outside cause, as, for the three following even
ings, the young returned to the nest to roost. I spent several hours
watching this brood and their parents, and the whole time was
occupied, except short intervals when they were fed, in forcing the
young birds from point to point, but ever keeping them from the
railroad-track, over which trains passed frequently. Two days from
leaving the nest they could fly six or eight yards, but always from a
higher to a lower perch, and regained the more elevated branches by
very short, * jumping flights, with a laborious flapping of the wings ;
but on the fifth day they could follow their parents almost any dis
tance, and execute an upward flight with apparently the same ease.
Examination of the wing-feathers on the 30th of June, as compared
with a week previous, showed so slight gain in the .growth of the
feathers, that I believe nothing in the increased flight-power was due
to their being now better fledged."

CERTAIN PHASES OF BIRD-LIFE. 345

Such observations as the one noted in detail I have so frequently
repeated with widely-differing species as to satisfy me that what
may be termed " direct instruction " in flight is given to the young
birds by their parents. " Indirect instruction " also is noticeable, in
the fact that the parent-birds cease to feed their young, and so force
the latter to leave the nest and follow them. Once out of the nest,
they soon endeavor to walk on air, as it were, and, falling, open their
wings, and, as described, thus take the initial step. This ceasing to
bring the food to the young while yet in the nest is done in some
instances, I judge, only to draw them from the nest ; and then they
feed them as before, but not as frequently, which leads the young to
voluntarily move from point to point. The important fact must not
be lost sight of, too, that the young birds, when once out of the nest,
witness nearly every movement of their parents, and learn, un
doubtedly, very much through imitation of their movements.

For these reasons, I believe the acquisition of full flight-power is
gradually acquired; first there is a mere "flapping" to prevent fall
ing ; then short horizontal stages of aerial progression ; finally, a
steady, intelligent use of the wings, enabling the birds, to execute the
highest type of flight within their capabilities, i.e., upward flight.

In the case of birds of more complicated flight than those men
tioned above, such as the falcons, where hovering is a necessary ac
quirement, the truth of the assertion that flight is gradually acquired
becomes more evident from the fact (which I have very frequently
verified by observation) that the young birds for some time after
leaving the nest are fed by their parents. They commence procuring
food for themselves by chasing sparrows ; checking their moderate
flight when above a thicket, they rush upon the fleeing birds, more
frequently without success than with. Their first attempts at hover
ing are miserable failures, and it is not until autumn that they are
enabled, by the complete control of their wings, to stay themselves in
mid-air, and, at the proper moment, dart with unerring aim upon some
luckless mouse.

I have used the term " unerring," because it is customary so to
characterize this act of the falcons ; but, having watched, with a pow
erful field-glass, the hovering and darting of hawks, I have been forced
to consider the term far from correct, and that not more than one-
half, if as many, of the " strikes," on the part of the bird, are effectual.

Following the young birds, of any species, from the nests, and
noting their movements, we find that the one prominent aim of their
lives, during their first summer, is the acquisition of food. They have
really nothing else to do, if we except escaping from the attacks of
their enemies, and this is taught them directly by their parents,
judge that the great majority of birds that fall victims to birds of
prey and carnivorous mammals are young. To return to the feeding-
habits of birds. These appear to be acquired, by every bird, through

346 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

imitation of the movements of the parents when in search of food ;
judgment as to localities, on the part of the young, and allied circum
stances connected with procuring food, come by experience. "Watch
a restless little creeper, during these chill winter mornings (Ctrthia
familiaris], as it flies from tree to tree, and clambers over and about
the rough bark. It seems, indeed, a mere automaton, driven, and not
going of its own free-will ; but, if we continue our observations but a
little longer, we shall find it really a discriminating creature, passing
by certain trees that are to us all one with those visited. It is not
chance, but a consciousness of the uselessness of search, that deter
mines its flight to some more distant rather than a nearer tree.

As an example of the knowledge gained by young birds through
imitation, let us take young woodpeckers. On leaving the nest, they
accompany their parents, but are not fed by them. Like the old
birds, they immediately commence to climb the trunks and branches
of the trees. Having been fed with insects when in the nest, they
are already able to recognize their proper food, and devour the
visible insects they may discover on the outer surface of the bark.
Now, was it the example set by their parents, or the peculiar con
struction of their bill and feet, that was the cause of their having
sought the trees, and climbed over them in the peculiar manner com
mon to their kind ? I think, clearly the former. Now, merely clam
bering over the bark of trees would not enable them to secure suffi
cient food, and imitation could not extend beyond this point ; but
here experience comes into play, and the gradual acquirement of the
whole routine is easily traced. The bark of trees is nearly always
cracked, and in the crevices are more insects than on the surface, and
the habit, soon acquired, of search in the cracks of the bark is the one
step from searching over the exposed surface to search beneath. Imi
tation led the ignorant young bird to the thrifty growth of timber,
and not the tangled hedge-rows. Experience taught him the accus
tomed haunts of those insects on which Nature bids him prey. If we
go back into the remote past, and recall the ancestral woodpecker,
we can with no undue use of the imagination picture to ourselves the
first steps that led the good climber to find in the half-decayed bark
the nourishing food abounding there ; and now let us return to the
present, and seek for some variation in the habits of the birds of to
day. As an instance, the " flicker," or golden-winged woodpecker,
leaves the timber-lands, and in loose flocks, often in company with
robins, wanders over pasture-fields and meadows in search of food,
more especially the crickets, and not under fences do they look for
them, but under the dry droppings of the cattle. Here is an instance
where accident, it may be, gave origin to, and experience has con
firmed into a habit, a decided variation from normal woodpecker life.
Now, a young woodpecker leaving its nest June 1st, if dissociated
from its kind, would never leave the woodlands, and, seeking the

CERTAIN PHASES OF BIRD-LIFE. 347

pasture-fields, overturn dry chips of cow-dung, in search of crickets ;
but such young birds will naturally follow their parents thither, and
this is just the case, for the larger proportion of birds killed in Octo
ber, in such localities, are the young of the preceding summer.

In conclusion, with reference to young birds, I believe they leave
their nests totally ignorant, and naturally imitate their parents. What
this imitation secures to them, in the way of knowledge, they perfect
by experience ; and this explains the variation in the habits of the
same birds, so noticeable when studied in localities widely distant and
greatly differing in character.

Let us turn our attention now to adult birds ; and, with reference
to them, I would refer particularly to two phases of their life-habits
that have interested me exceedingly. The first of these points is the
ingenuity so frequently displayed in procuring food. By the exercise
of ingenuity, I mean instances of the attacking bird (in cases of birds
of prey) being at first outwitted by the pursued, and, after repeated
efforts availing nothing, ceasing its aggressive movements ; then con
sidering the causes of failure, planning a new method of action, and,
having correctly judged the difficulties, finally succeeding. This, at
least, is the manner in which I interpret the following instance :

While out watching our winter birds, January 22d of this year, I
was caught in quite a hard shower, and sought shelter under a group
of three large, dense cedars. Like myself, driven in from the adjoin
ing meadows by the increasing rain, came a dozen or more sparrows,
which, settling among the branches, commenced dressing their feath
ers and twittering cheerily. In a few moments after came, with a
rush and loud chirp, a gay cardinal. If the sparrows did not ac
knowledge his presence with a low bow, each, at any rate, took a
lower branch, leaving him on his elevated perch like a monarch on
his throne. But he was fated to be molested, for, scarcely had he
become fairly settled, and his feathers smoothed, when a sparrow-
hawk rushed through the tree, with a zigzag movement, endeavoring
to seize him or one of his attendant sparrows. Failing in this, the
hawk hovered about a few moments, giving the scattered birds time
to return, which they quickly did, when, with a similar rush, he again
scattered them. One little snow-bird was so thoroughly frightened
that it lit upon my shoulder, as though seeking safety under the brim
of my hat. The third effort of the hawk failing, he came back imme
diately and seated himself at a little distance from the top of the tree,
and close to the main stem. I remained nearly motionless, but with
upturned face, and could plainly see the bird, although fortunately I
escaped notice. One thing in particular attracted my notice : the
bird was very much exhausted, " out of breath," as we should say of
ourselves, and, with his beak open, lie panted violently. This satisfied
me that the efforts to capture prey are not accomplished with the ease
sometimes supposed. As the rain was increasing, and the wind con-

34 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

sidcrable, the sparrows again collected in the tree ; and now the liawk
rushed nut instead of in, and bore a luckless sparrow in his claws.

I think that we have here all that I claimed, when speaking of
ingenuity on the part of adult birds in seeking their food. There
was in the above instance a painful consciousness, at first, of failure
to secure the, desired prey ; there was a determination to succeed, in
spite of failure at the start, and a correct determination of the cause
of failure, coupled with the invention of a plan by which the difficul
ties might be overcome. What more should be required to demon
strate that the mental powers of lower animals differ from those of
man solely in degree ?

Again, let us consider a case of ingenuity displayed by a bird in
successfully avoiding an enemy. Here there is more cause to be
surprised at the result, inasmuch as there was no cessation of the at
tack, to give the pursued bird time for considering how best to act
under the circumstances ; but, while fleeing for life, it matured a plan
of escape that happily succeeded. This instance of ingenuity on the
part of a pursued bird I have already related (Land and IVater,
March 2, 1872), but, considering it more remarkable than any other
that has occurred to my knowledge, and having witnessed a repetition
of it, two years later, I again relate it, in preference to other instances
I have noted, bearing upon the same subject. The case is that of a
" king-rail " (Itallus elegam}, which my spaniel flushed in open ground,
the grass not being tall enough to conceal it. The bird trusted wholly
to running, and kept clear of the dog ; frequently it " doubled," and
seemed to enjoy the chase ; but, evidently becoming somewhat fatigued,
as shown by the nearer approach of the spaniel, it ceased doubling,
but, running in a straight line some distance, it allowed the dog to
get within a foot or more, when it jumped, with a single flap of its
wings, a foot or more from the ground; then dropping down quickly
behind the dog, it turned and ran in the opposite direction, gaining
considerable ground before the impetuous spaniel could check its speed,
turn about, and follow. Here, again, as we would express it, in describ
ing any human experience, "the circumstances of the case were taken
into consideration" by the pursued bird, and, without taking to flight,
as would seem the more natural act, it surmounted the difficulties, and
effected its escape. I can conceive of no other way of explaining this
action of the rail-bird, than by admitting that a train of thought passed
through the brain of the bird that it thought, "If I can gain time, 1
am safe," just as any pursued person would think that, if he could
reach some spot, be heard, etc., he would be safe. And, while yet run
ning at great speed, the bird thought of an ingenious plan, by which
it did gain time, and reached the reedy creek-bank in safety

It might be argued that a single act of a bird, at some one time,
and under peculiar circumstances, does not constitute a habit that it
simply chanced to do so and so ; but a second occurrence of the kind

CERTAIN PHASES OF BIRD-LIFE. 349

would result differently. It must be remembered, however, that where
a bird is noticed in its natural haunts, once, even if for more than an
hour which is an unusually long observation there are weeks when
this same bird is unseen, and therefore what its acts may be are ab
solutely unknown. For this reason, an ingenious act of a bird may
be frequently repeated, and almost certainly is. Indeed, our igno
rance of bird-life is so great, that what seem to us " curious instances,"
because but seldom witnessed, are frequently daily occurrences, and
ordinary features of the bird s life. It can scarcely have escaped the
notice of close observers of our winter birds, that their comparative
abundance is only during clear, pleasant weather, when they will be
as lively and restless as spring birds in early summer, and that during
the winter certain localities, as the southern outlooks of wooded hill
sides and such sheltered spots, are those where these hardy species
" most do congregate." During a mild day, at some such spot, we
can almost delude ourselves into thinking that spring is coming ; but
on the morrow a fierce wind rattles the bare branches above you,
clouds of stinging dust, or driving snow, fill the chilled air, and not a
bird is to be seen or heard, the cheery sights and sounds of yesterday
having given place to a dreariness most drear. One question now
arises, and we naturally ask, " What has become of the birds, so lately
here?"

During the winter of 1874- 75 (the coldest except one 1885- 36
since 1780), I endeavored to determine to what extent these birds
sought shelter, and the character of it, not only as a protection
against severe storms, but as regular winter quarters, i. e., for roosting-
places. I was led to do this from the fact that these winter residents,
as the bluebird, the cardinal redbird, and the titmouse, do not roost in
the trees, as in summer, and it seemed probable that, seeking warmer
quarters in ordinary weather, they should seek shelter from severe
storms, and not temporarily migrate to some point beyond the limits
of the storm; not only this, but that some spot is selected early in the
season as such roosting-place and refuge, and occupied as such through
out the season. So far as my observations extend, I was correct in my
surmises.

I have, on my farm, a deep "gully," or ravine, thickly wooded,
and with overhanging banks, extending a considerable portion of the
entire length. This overhanging earth is held in place, partly by the
character of the soil, and more by the roots of the trees growing near
the margins of the gully. In this locality, under the overhanging
earth, in some instances at a distance of three feet from the open
ground, I found the snow-birds, song and chipping sparrows, occa
sionally a flock of cedar-birds, the arctic snow-bird, and horned larks,
roosting; and, judging from the amount of excreta upon the ground,
this had been the accustomed roosting-place for many weeks. A little
before sundown, during January, I would find these birds, some or

350 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

all of them, congregating in the adjoining fields and in the trees of the
gully, and quite suddenly they would all disappear. Searching cvi-ry
p"s<ible hiding-place, I finally found them as above described. If
the following day proved very cold or stormy, many of them would
remain in their snug retreat, the arctic visitors being the first to
venture out. The birds just mentioned all build open nests, either
in trees or upon the ground. On the other hand, the titmouse, nut
hatch, brown tree-creeper, and bluebird, all of which build nests in
hollow trees, or sheltered spots of that character, I found regularly
roosted in the hollow trees, or in the outbuildings of the farm. The
cardinal redbirds, however, which nest in trees and brier-patches,
usually took refuge in dense cedars, to roost, but sought other shelter
during severe storms. For instance, during the remarkable wind
storm of February 9th, when the air was filled with dust, and the
thermometer ranged from 3 to 4^ Fahr., no ordinary shelter could
protect our resident birds. During the day not one was to be seen
flying. I found the cardinal redbirds a pair of them had taken
shelter in a large, hollow tree, and with them was quite a large num
ber of titmice, a brown tree-creeper (Certhia familiar is), and several
sparrows. I do not doubt but that the earth-shelter already described
had proved inadequate, and that the birds usually roosting there had
sought more sheltered spots. However, I did not have the courage to
face the wind, and see for myself, if such was the case.

During the present winter I have found that some, at least, of our
winter birds utilize the very excellent shelter afforded by the nests of
our bank-swallows. February 20th, a bright, clear day, I passed by
a high, steep cliff of compact sand and clay, much frequented by these
swallows during summer. I noticed there chipping-sparrows and a
bluebird sunning themselves, each at the opening of a nest. On driv
ing them away I found that they circled about for a few moments, and
returned. On passing the cliff again, some hours later, I saw these
birds, and several others, some at the openings of the nests, and
others flitting about, quite in the manner of swallows. I could not
reach the nests, to determine if they had been much occupied during
the winter, but do not doubt but that such was the case.

I have not found, however, any shelters constructed by birds for
such purpose solely, except in the case of the introduced English
sparrow, which builds quite an elaborate and very warm roost in<_r-
nest. During the early frosts of autumn and prevalence of cold rain
storms, occurring before the ordinary date of migratorial departure,
the nests used in spring and summer are, I know, used as roosting-
places, but I have not detected any refitting of them for this purpOM*
Considering this, it would be natural for birds to build new structures
for winter use, and in the sparrow we have an instance of it, and, I
presume, the abundance of natural shelter lias alone prevented the
gradual acquirement of this habit by our winter birds.

"THE UNCERTAINTY, ETC., OF THE SCIENCES." 351

Having familiarized one s self with the various phases of bird-life,
as it occurs in the open fields, dense thickets, along secluded streams,
and in shady forests, one can scarcely conclude otherwise, if happily
he has not entered upon his studies with some preconceived notion,
than that these wild and wary falcons, timid sparrows, fiery little
wrens, and cautious waterfowl, are creatures that, like man himself,
are thrown upon the world dependent upon their own exertions,
guided by their own reasoning powers. There are no prearranged
rules which, when birds leave their nests, they must strictly follow,
to exist. Given that knowledge which comes through direct and in
direct instruction from the parent-birds, and a young bird, having the
world before it, exercises just those mental powers that man ex
ercises, but limited just so far as its own wants are less than man s
wants as man. Finally, in the chance occurrence of some peculiar
habit have we not a trace of the former mode of life of some far-dis
tant ancestral form ; and, in the undeniable irregularity of all habits,
can we not discern unmistakable indications of the gradual adoption
of every habit, just as the various specific forms themselves gradually
emerged from the archaic creature that, appearing in the dim past,
foreshadowed the gigantic condor of the Andes, and the petulant
humming-birds of our summer gardens ?

"OF THE UNCERTAINTY AND VANITY. OF THE
SCIENCES."

BY IEWIN EUSSELL.

ABOUT three hundred and fifty years ago, Henry Cornelius Agrip-
pa wrote a very curious book, u De Incertitudine et Yanitate
Scientiarum" (Of the Uncertainty and Vanity of the Sciences). Few
people read it now. Yet it has its interest, as an exponent of the
state of science at that day, aside from the attractions which are given
it by the quaint, sarcastic style of the author.

Here it is, a very old edition, in the black-letter of the sixteenth
century. The text has numerous peculiarities. The letter " a," with
a dash over it, represents "an ;" there are two kinds of "r s ; " the
double " e s " and double " o s," respectively, are put on a single type.
The emphasized words are printed in Roman characters, whereof the
font contains no " w," and that letter is made by placing two " v s "
together. The book is numbered by folios, instead of pages. The
printer tells us that his edition is translated from the original Latin,
compared with an Italian version. Let us transcribe some of Agrippa s
remarks altering the spelling to suit our modern rules.

352 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Above all sciences, he favors geometry : " In fine, all the cunning
that is in Painting, in the Measuring the world, in ground tilth and trim
ming, in the Art of war, in founding of metals, in the art of working
Images in earth, in Image-making, in forging, in building and in metals,
for the most part, cometh from geometry." lie says, however, of the
geometricians : " Yet such is their ambition, that they will never rest
upon the precepts of their preceptors; but believing in such things to
find out more than their Masters, do bring themselves into so great
madness that all the Helleborus in the world sufficeth not to purge
it." He instances as the fruits of this science, " all the cunning work
ing of tools and artificial instruments, Magnaries, Machanopocetickes^
Poliorcetickes, .... Testudines^ Cuniculines, .... JZxosters, Sam-
bukes" Between paragraphs, the reader can consult the dictionary
or encyclopedia.

We are told in cap. 23, " Of the Arte Opticke," that " there are
sundry and divers opinions of the manner of seeing. For Plato sup-
poseth the sight to be made according to the clearness : to wit, that
which cometh from the eyes : the Light running to an outward air,
that Light which is carried from the bodies being brought against
it ; but that which is about the midst of the air, doth cause that it
spreadeth, and turneth back to the virtue of the Sight, being spread
abroad, and like unto Fire. Galene and Plato are of one opinion ; but
Hipparchus saith, that the beams spreading abroad from the eyes
unto bodies, touching them as it were with a certain feeling, or grop
ing, do give that which they receive to the Sight. And the Epicures
affirm that the similitudes of things not corporal, but according to the
quality through the alteration of the air, which is in compass, doth
come from visible things unto the sight. But Porphirius saith that,
neither the Beams, neither the similitudes, nor any other thing, is the
cause of seeing, but the soul alone, that knoweth herself visible, and
that is one of all things, which knoweth herself in all things that are.
The geometricians and perspectivians, approaching somewhat near to
Hipparchus, do affirm that there be certain Figures made of the meet
ing together of the beams, which are sent out through the eyes, from
whence the sight doth comprehend in one, many visible things, but
they most certain of all, wheresoever the beams shall meet together.
Certes, Alchindus saith otherwise of the Sights: but it seemeth to
Augustine that the power of the Soul doth bring somewhat to effect in
the eyes, the which is not yet perceived of the Students of Wisdom."

Although we have advanced much since tin- time of Cornelius
Agrippa, still, even in this glorious nineteenth century there is here
and there a thing " the whiche is not yet perceyved of the Studentes
of Wisedome."

The toll*. wing is a good example of our author s peculiar style:
"Notwithstanding, I learned in time past in Italy, that there was in
pictures and images an authority greatly to be esteemed ; for whereas

"THE UNCERTAINTY, ETC., OF THE SCIENCES." 353

there was an obstinate strife between the Augustine Friars and the
vulgar Canons, before the pope, concerning the habit or apparel of
S. Augustine, that is to say, whether he did wear a black w*ed upon
a white Coat, or a white weed upon a black Coat ; and finding nothing
in the Scriptures which made to the ending of this strife, the Roman
judges thought good to prefer the whole matter to Painters and Image-
makers, and that which they could avouch out of ancient Pictures and
Images should be holden for a Definitive sentence. I being grounded
upon this example, when some time I with exceeding great diligence
searched for the Original of the Friars cowl, and could find nothing
for that matter in the Scriptures, at length I went me to the Painters,
and for this thing I sought in the Cloisters, and in the cells of the
Friars, where for the most part the histories of both Testaments are
painted ; and when I could not find in all the Old Testament none of
the Patriarchs, none of the Priests, none of the Prophets, none of the
Levites, nor yet Helias himself, whom the Carmelitans would have to
be their Patron, with a cowl : taking the New Testament in hand, I
found there Zacharie, Symeon, John Baptist, Joseph, Christe, the
Apostles, the Disciples, the Scribes, the Pharisees, the High Priest
Annas, Caiphes, Herode, Pilate, and many other, I saw in no place a
Friar s cowl : and again diligently examining everything from the
beginning, immediately in the fore part of the History the Devil was
painted with a Cowl, to wit, he which went to tempt Christ in the
Desert. I rejoiced exceedingly that I had found that in the pictures
which until that time I could not see in writing, that is to say, that
the Devil was the first author of a cowl : of whom afterwards, I sup
pose, that other Monks and Friars took up the fashion under. divers
colors ; or, perhaps, have retained it as a thing left to them by inheri
tance."

Such passages as the last, which abound in the book, were not cal
culated to win for the writer the affection of the clergy. Through
their influence, Agrippa was imprisoned for some time, and his pen
sion from the Emperor of Austria was withdrawn.

" Seeing glasses " he classifies as follows : " The hollow, the em
bossed, the plain, the Columnarie, the Piromidal, the TurUnal, the
bunched, the round, the cornered, the inversed, the eversed, the regu
lar, the unregular, the massy, and the clear." He describes their
properties, and says : " And I know how to make Glasses, in which,
when the sun shineth, all things that are lightened of his beams may
very plainly be seen a great space off, as three or four miles." Were
these " glasses " on the principle of the telescope ? The invention of
that instrument is generally assigned to Galileo, about 1590; whereas
Agrippa s book was published at Antwerp in 1530.

Astronomy he pronounces " altogether false, and fuller of trifling
toys than the fables of the Poets" declaring that the laws of the
science, as then asserted, were only a mass of idle conjectures.

YOL. IX. 23

354 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Of magic he says: "The things which the deluded and bewitched
persons do imagine, have no truth of action and being, save only
things itoagined. For the end of this skill is not to do, simply, but
to stretch out Imaginations even unto appearance."

The chapter on alchemy is a curiosity. One passage reads :
" Finally, of that only blessed thing alone, besides which there is no
other thing, yet to be found in every place, the subject of the most
holy stone of the Philosophers, I mean, that is to say, I have almost
rashly uttered the name of the thing, whereby I should be a sacrilege
and forsworn, yet I will speak it with circumlocution, but somewhat
more obscure, that none but young beginners in the Art and they
which be trained up in the mysteries thereof may understand it. It
is a thing, which hath substance, and not overmuch fiery, nor alto
gether earthly, nor simply watery, nor a most sharp nor most blunt
quality, but indifferent, and light in touching, and after a sort tender,
or at the least not hard, not unpleasant, but after a sort sweet in
taste, sweet in smell, delectable to the sight, pleasant and jocund to
the hearing, large to the imagination : I may say no more, and yet
there be things greater than these." The description is scarcely
definite enough to enable us to find the philosopher s stone.

The 102d chapter is "A Digression in prayse of the Asse" after
which follows the conclusion of the work, in which he salutes his
readers, " O ye asses." Perhaps some modern authors would like to
follow his example in this j-espect.

The printer, in his preface to this edition, remarks : " Sapience
proceedeth of perfect Reason, joyned with Learning, and knowledge,
which if it be true, then consequently it followeth, that Artes and Sci
ences are good. And although this Authour sharply inveyeth against
them, (which to the rude multitude for that cause may seeme naught
and noysome) yet his intent is not to deface the worthiness of
Artes and Sciences, but to reprove and detect their euill vses, and
declare the excellencie of his wit in disprouing them, for a shewe of
learning."

Henry Cornelius Agrippa was one of the most learned men of his
time, and wrote voluminously upon scientific and philosophical sub
jects. The " Edinburgh Encyclopedia " says of him: "As a soldier
and a physician, a lawyer and a lecturer, a metaphysician and a theo
logian, the versatility of his genius enabled him to attain the highest
distinction." lie wrote a "Dissertation on Original Sin," a work <m
" Occult Philosophy," a " History of the Government of Charles V.,"
and various other treatises. The book from which we have quoted -<>
largely is undoubtedly the most complete summary of the condition
of science at that day to be found in any one volume.

Is it probable that our present accepted theories will seem as curi
ous to the reader of three hundred and fifty years hence as those of
Agrippa s day appear to us ? Will the customs, the manners, and the

ANIMAL POWERS OF OFFENSE AND DEFENSE. 355

laws of the world improve as rapidly in the future as they have in the
past ? If so, who would not wish to fall into such a trance as that of
the Seven Sleepers and wake, to find the rest of life all too short to
enjoy the stupendous novelty ?

ANIMAL POWERS OF OFFENSE AND DEFENSE.

rpHERE can hardly be any greater diversity observed in the animal
series than that exemplified in the various means whereby ani
mals are enabled to assume an offensive or defensive aspect. From
the lowest to the highest grades of animal life excepting, perhaps,
man himself we find ample provision made for the exigencies of ani
mal existence, in so far as these exigencies demand the use of appara
tus which gives its possessors some advantage or other in the " strug
gle for existence." Undoubtedly, in his superior intellectual organi
zation, which enables man even in his rudest state to avail himself of
almost every feature in his surroundings for advantage and defense,
the human subject has been endowed above all other forms ; and he
therefore compensates himself by varied arts and stratagems for the
want of the more rigid and natural appliances of lower forms. But
if it be true that art is most to be admired when it closely imitates
Nature, then the policy of man in his imitation, conscious or uncon
scious, of the many offensive arts of his humbler neighbors, must
claim from us a fair share of favorable criticism.

Thus, it is a striking fact that very many human means of defense
or offense find their prototypes, or at least strangely analogous feat
ures, in the extensive armory of the animal world at large. The lasso
may be found in the apparatus whereby such a simple form as the
Hydra, that tiny fresh-water polyp, secures its prey. Or, when hu
man sharp-shooters think to conceal their whereabouts most effectually
from the foes they purpose to annoy, and clothe themselves in gar
ments of neutral tint, the hue of which shall most nearly resemble
that of the objects amid which they are located, this principle of
imitation of natural objects again finds a strict parallelism in the ani
mal world. For it is a familiar fact to all observers of Nature that
the color of most animals resembles more or less that of their natural
surroundings. The color of the sand-grouse, for instance, and other
species of grouse, of partridges and other birds inhabiting heaths, or
of flounders and other fishes inhabiting the sand, strictly approximates
in character to that of their dwelling-places, and serves to conceal and
protect such beings. And, when we further discover that, in not a few
cases, this principle of similarity to their surroundings is carried in

356 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

some animals such as the leaf insects and walking-stick insects to
the extent of close and actual mimicry, our surprise is increased.

Or, lastly, when we find, as in the latest phase of modern warfare,
that the concealed torpedo is used as a subtile and powerful means
for effecting the destruction of whole fleets, the fact cannot but call
to mind the electrical apparatus of some fishes and notably that of
the torpedo or electric ray which exists as a natural means of de
fense, the powers of which, few, if any, of their less favored neigh
bors care to test or provoke.

While the consideration of the more prominent and typical means
of defense in animals may very reasonably occupy our brief atten
tion, a few words on the subject of mimicry in the animal series may
also prove interesting, more especially as this form of protection,
through imitation of their surroundings, forms a simple yet effective
means of defense to many organisms. We have already referred to
the readily-perceived and very general correspondence in color seen
throughout the animal world between animals and their abodes ; and
of the more general aspects of this condition nothing further need be
said. The more special and striking developments of mimetic resem
blances are found in cases in which not merely the general color of
their environments is imitated, but where resemblances of a close, and
sometimes of a very extraordinary kind, to other animals, to plants, or
even to inorganic objects, are to be noted. In the leaf-insects, which
are included in the same order as locusts, crickets, etc., for example,
the wings are not only colored to resemble leaves, but their struct
ure imitates in the most exact manner the appearance of the veins of
the leaf. Nor does the principle of imitation end with this sufficiently
remarkable effect. In some leaf-insects the colors of the leaf-like
wings actually change with the season of the year ; as if in the most
perfect sympathy and harmony with the alteration of colors in the
actual leaves-. And the mimicry becomes of still more perfect kind,
to our thinking, when we find that the wings of the leaf-insect exhibit
even the characteristic markings we are familiar with in leaves as pro
duced by the attacks of minute insects; Nature thus imitating, not
merely the natural structure of the leaf, but the very imperfections to
which the leaf is subject. It has been suggested that the little leaf-
eating insects may be themselves deceived by the mimicry of their
larger neighbors, and may actually eat into the wings of the latter,
and thus produce the eroded appearance. But, if this latter view be
correct, it.only makes out a stronger case for the perfect reproduction
of the leaves in the wings of the insect. Mr. Wallace has given us
a very typical example of another such case of the imitation, not
only of leaves, but of the natural parasites of leaves, in a butterfly,
the wings of which, on their under-surfaces, resemble leaves ; whilf
the imitations of decay of leaves and of the fungi that appear thereon
are so close that, as Mr. Wallace remarks, " it is impossible to avoid

ANIMAL POWERS OF OFFENSE AND DEFENSE. 357

thinking at first sight that the butterflies themselves have been at
tacked by real fungi."

The walking-stick insects, as they are called, in their turn imitate,
in the skeleton-like structure of their bodies, the appearance of dried
twigs ; and it is a singular fact that even in their awkward, ungainly
manner of walking, the resemblance to the chance movements of
twigs is clearly perceptible ; the mimicry being rendered more real
istic through this latter phase. Then, also, we find certain harmless
groups of moths imitating closely the outward appearance of species
of stinging bees and hornets. And one remarkable case of mimicry
is the well known instance of some perfectly inodorous South Ameri
can butterflies, which perfectly reproduce the external appearance
of other butterflies which emit a most offensive odor; the reason
assigned for this latter phase of mimicry being the very feasible one
that the inodorous forms are protected from the attacks of birds
by their resemblance to their strong-smelling neighbors. As a
last instance of this curious phase of animal organization, we may
note the example furnished by those curious little fishes, the Hip
pocampi, or sea-horses so named from the obvious resemblance
of the form of the head to that of a horse the bodies of which be
come covered with long streamers of certain kinds of seaweed ; so
that, when these fishes rest amid the seaweed-covered nooks of their
marine grottoes, the presence of their streamers serves to render de
tection by their enemies no easy matter.

Referring to the explanation, if such can be afforded, of these mi
metic resemblances, there can be little doubt that, viewed as to its
ultimate use and purpose, the condition of mimicry serves in the most
effective manner as a means of defense and protection to the animals
so endowed. The resemblance of the colors of birds to that of their
habitat presents an obvious instance of this purpose ; as also does
the more complicated example of the imitation, by scentless butterflies,
of their odorous neighbors. But, as regards the exact means whereby
the condition of mimicry is induced and perfected, or concerning the
exact causes of its assumption and development, natural history sci
ence, in its practical aspect, remains silent ; although the bolder march
of theory and speculation may^ indeed lead us for a little way toward
the solution of the problem. At any rate, there can be no difficulty
to our clearly appreciating the workings of a great law of purpose
and design in the production of mimicry, as serving to protect the
weak and less powerful against stronger and better-provided animals.

Turning now to some lower forms of animal life, we find in such
forms as the Hydrce, or common fresh-water polyps, the zoophytes,
sea-anemones, jelly-fishes, and allied forms, excellent examples of very
specific means of defense and offense in animals. Within the tissues
of the bodies of the foregoing organisms, when these tissues are mi
croscopically examined, numerous little sacs or cells, varying in size

358 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

and form, may be observed. To these cells the appropriate name of
" thread-cells," or cnidce, has been given. When their structure is
investigated, each little cell is seen to possess an elastic wall of dou
ble nature; the inner layer of the wall being strong, while the outer
one is of thinner and more delicate texture. The upper or open ex
tremity of the inner layer of the sac is prolonged to form a kind of
sheath, which protects and gives origin to a thread-like filament, from
the presence of which, indeed, these cells derive their name. This
thread, in the ordinary condition of the cell, is coiled up within the
interior of the sac, and around its own sheath ; and in many cases
both thread and sheath may be discerned to be provided with minute
spines or hooks. The cell itself, in addition, contains a fluid, amid
which the thread is submerged.

Such is the essential structure of a thread-cell in its normal state
of what we may term repose. When such a structure, however, is
pressed or irritated in any way, the cell ruptures or bursts, the con
tained fluid escapes, and the thread and its sheath are quickly pro
truded or thrown out from the opening in the cell. If, now, the thread
and fluid are observed to come in contact with any body of appropri
ate and assailable kind, such a body will exhibit certain symptoms
which will indicate to us the probable nature of these curious cells.
Thus, when the tentacles or feelers of the sea-anemone, or of any of
the zoophytes, come in contact with a minute or susceptible organism
adapted for food, the organism is first observed to struggle to escape
from the entwining filaments which encircle its body. Soon, however,
its active exertions cease, and the victim appears paralyzed and inca
pable of helping itself, or of struggling longer with its captor. The
thread-cells, in other words, have been discharging their miniature
darts or " threads " into the body attacked ; the fluid in all proba
bility of acrid or poisonous nature has been poisoning the tissues
of the struggling organism ; and the observation has revealed to us
that the functions of the cells are undoubtedly analogous to those of
the serpent s fangs and poison-gland, in that they serve to paralyze
and kill the prey.

As might naturally be supposed, the power of the thread-cells
varies in different species and groups of the animals that possess
them ; but there are some forms of Ccelenterata for thus the Hydroe^
sea-anemones, and their allies, are collectively named in which the
stinging-cells are of sufficient size and power to inflict severe pain on
man himself. Aristotle was fully aware of this latter fact when he
named the jelly-fishes and their allies Acalephm, or " nettle-like "
animals. And bathers and swimmers, through instinct, if not thor
ough zoological knowledge, generally and wisely contrive to give the
jelly-fishes a wide berth in their marine meanderings. The late Ed
ward Forbes, in his humorsome manner, says of one species of jelly
fish, that, u once tangled in its trailing hair, the unfortunate, who

ANIMAL POWERS OF OFFENSE AND DEFENSE. 359

has recklessly ventured across the graceful monster s path, too soon
writhes in prickly torture. Every struggle," he continues, " but
binds the poisonous threads more firmly round his body, and then
there is no escape ; " for, as the naturalist informs us, even when the
arms or tentacles are cast loose from the body of the jelly-fish, they
" sting as fiercely as if their original proprietor itself gave the word
of attack." The Abbe Dicquemare, an observant French naturalist,
found that some species can only sting the more sensitive parts of
the body, such as the eyes. But Forbes s remark of the abbe s experi
ment, that most people would prefer " keeping their eyes intact, to
poking medusa? into them," will coincide, we imagine, with the opin
ions of most of our readers. It is equally worthy of remark that
" appearances " in natural history, as in ordinary life, are apt to be
" deceptive ; " and, looking at the grace and beauty of the jelly-fishes,
we could hardly credit them with such virulent powers.

The most notable offenders of the jelly-fish class, in respect of
their stinging powers, are the Physalice, or Portuguese-men-of-war, as
they are popularly termed a group of beautiful oceanic forms, met
with floating far out at sea, especially in tropical latitudes, and pre
senting the appearance of a bladder-like structure, provided with a
crest and trailing streamers, and colored of the most ethereal and
beautiful of hues. When the tentacles of a physalia are allowed to
come in contact with the human skin, the thread-cells which are of
large relative size, and measure in diameter about the three-thou
sandth of an inch sting so severely that the effects of the irritation
may persist for a considerable time, and may give rise in some cases
to very painful after-effects. The thread-cells in the tentacles of the
common species of sea-anemones have no effect on the skin of man ;
but, as the writer has frequently demonstrated on his own person, if
the tentacle be allowed to touch the more delicate mucous membrane
of the lips, a slight stinging sensation, accompanied by temporary
numbness, may be felt. To the curious this is worth trying.

Passing in review the higher groups of the animal kingdom, we
find an endless variety of contrivances subserving offensive purposes,
or limited to the milder purposes of defense. Shells, scales, and
plates of every kind, with special modifications for special purposes,
may thus readily be selected as examples; spines and allied arma
ments of all shapes and sizes ; poison-secretions and fangs of centi
pedes and serpents, and the sting of scorpions and bees, possessing
sure and sometimes deadly effect on those they attack; and, in
quadrupeds, strong claws and teeth united to equally powerful mus
cles such are a few examples of the endless stores of weapons con
tained in animal armories. Chambers s Journal.

360 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SKETCH OF ALEXANDER BAIN.

PROFESSOR BAIN, of the University of Aberdeen, is a repre
sentative man of the modern school of English thought, who has
done his best work in the field of psychology. His elaborate treatises
upon the human mind now take a leading place in our literature, and
are used as text-books in many colleges and universities. Besides this
more special line of inquiry, to which Prof. Bain has given prominent
attention, he has also been very active in the general field of higher
education as lecturer, examiner, and author. He was born at Aber
deen, in 1818, and entered Marischal College, in the university of that
town, in 1836, where he took the degree of M. A. in 1840. From 1841
to 1844 he taught as deputy the class of Moral Philosophy in Maris
chal College, and 1844- 45 he had charge of the class of Natural Phi
losophy in that institution. In 1845 he was elected Professor of Nat
ural Philosophy in the Andersonian University at Glasgow. In 1847
he was appointed by the " Metropolitan Sanitary Commission" their
assistant secretary, and in 1848 he was transferred to the same office
in the General Board of Health, a post which he resigned in 1850.
From 1857 to 1862 he held the position of Examiner in Logic and
Moral Philosophy in the University of London. During several years
from 1858 to 1870 he held the office of Examiner in Moral Science in
the India Civil Service Department, and in 1860 he was appointed by
the crown Professor of Logic in the University of Aberdeen. In 1864
he was reflected examiner in the University of London, and continued
to hold that position till 1869. Prof. Bain s first literary production
is said to have been an article in the Westminster Review, published
in 1840, and he subsequently contributed much to the pages of that
periodical. In 1847- 48 he wrote text-books on astronomy, electricity,
and meteorology, in Messrs. Chambers s school series, also several of
Charnbers s " Papers for the People," and the articles on " Language,"
"Logic," "The Human Mind," and "Rhetoric," in the "Information
for the People." In 1852 he published an edition of the " Moral Philoso
phy of Paley," with dissertations and notes. " The Senses and the In
tellect," his first independent and systematic work, appeared in 1855,
and jn 1859 was followed by "The Emotions and the Will," thus com
pleting a new methodical exposition of the human mind. In 1861
appeared from his pen " The Study of Character/ including an ex
amination of phrenology. In 1863 he published an English Gram
mar, and in 1866 a "Manual of English Composition and Rhetoric."
His more recent works are: "Mental and Moral Science," 1868;
" Logic, Deductive and Inductive," 1870; and "Mind ami Body," con
tributed to the "International Scientific Series," in 1873. In 1874
appeared "A Companion to the Higher English Grammar," "Exam-

SKETCH OF ALEXANDER BAIN. 361

pies and Discussions of Important Principles and Usages," intended
as a help to the thorough mastery of English. Prof. Bain contributed
the articles on " Logic " and " Mental Philosophy " to " Chambers s
Encyclopedia," and contributed editorial notes to the recent edition
of the works of James Mill. Prof. Bain was for many years the inti
mate friend and confidant of George Grote the historian, and was
made by him heir in reversion (after Mrs. Grote s death) of all his copy
rights. In connection with Prof. Croome Robertson, he edited Mr.
Grote s posthumous work on " Aristotle," and he also edited Grote s
" Minor Works," and prefixed to the edition an elaborate estimate of
the character and writings of the historian. In connection with Dr.
Taylor he is now engaged in a thorough revision of Arnott s "Phys
ics," bringing it up to date, so that a new edition of this valuable and
favorite work may be soon expected. He received the degree of
LL. D. in the University of Edinburgh in 1869.

As a philosophic thinker, the influence of Prof. Bain is now very
widely felt. He has made a powerful impression upon the mental
science of the age by accepting the results of modern physiology and
treating methodically of thought and emotion in connection with their
physical concomitants. Though not disregarding the value of intro
spection, or the study of psychical phenomena in the changes of con
sciousness, he couples with this method the vigorous study of mental
effects on their physical side, considering that there can be no mental
science worth the name that does not carry its analysis down to the
material conditions under which mind is manifested. The recognition
of the corporeal nature as so fundamental a factor in mental science
naturally drew his attention to the theory of organic development by
which the higher organisms are explained on the principle of their
derivation from the lower. This theory carries with it the necessary
implication that the psychical nature of man, his intellectual faculties,
emotions, and sentiments, are also derivative from lower conditions,
and are only to be explained through the principle of descent. In the
last edition of " The Emotions and the Will " this view is conse
quently adopted.

We give the readers of the MONTHLY an excellent likeness of Prof.
Bain, probably the first that has appeared in this country. He is a
man of slight stature, but of an active nervous temperament, a free
and admirable talker, full of wit and anecdote, and a lively story
teller. He is broad and liberal in his opinions, and holds advanced
views on the subject of education and university reform.

3 6z

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

CORRESPONDENCE.

THE WATER-HAMMER.
To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

SIR : The following phenomenon can,
perhaps, be explained by yourself or
one of your readers : I have a water-ham
mer, made of a straight tube of glass, about
eighteen inches long and three-quarters of
an inch in diameter. At the top of the
tube there are two bulbs, the upper one
about half the size of the lower, with only
a narrow passage of about a sixteenth of an
inch in width to connect the lower bulb
with the tube, and the upper bulb with the
lower. About one-third of the tube con
tains water. When the tube is inverted,
and the water allowed to fill both bulbs, it
will not, upon the tube being reversed, run
out, but will remain in the bulbs for an in
definite time, until shaken or otherwise
disturbed. This may be owing to adhesion
simply, or, possibly, to capillary attraction,
but it is not to this fact chiefly that I wish
to call your attention. The water being in
the bulbs, and the tube held with
the bulbs upward, if a smart blow
with the palm of the had be ap
plied at the bottom of the tube,
there arises, under certain con-
ditions which I have been unable
to determine, a ringing noise re-
sembling sometimes the singing
of a bird, sometimes the noise
produced by a thin iron instru. !
ment a fork, for instance when
knocked rapidly against an empty
tumbler. During this time, no |
water escapes from the bulbs, but i
the water at the mouth of the I
lower bulb is violently agitated,
as if small particles of air were
quickly ascending to the height
of a quarter of an inch in the bulb.
Not a drop of water is displaced,
the water remaining at the bottom
of the tube not being perceptibly
increased while the noise contin
ues. It lasts sometimes from five to ten
minutes, and it seems as though, under fa

vorable conditions, it might continue in
definitely. Very frequently, however, the
experiment does not succeed, though ap
parently all the conditions are exactly the
same. Here, therefore, are two questions :

1. Wliat is the reason why the \\ati-r,
when caused to enter the bulbs, docs not
flow out of them when the position of the
tube is reversed, but remains stationary as
if there was no such thing as gravity, and,
in this case, a vacuum besides ?

2. What is the reason of the singing
noise above described ? G. M.

NEW YORK, March 28, 1876.

j To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

WILL you allow me to state the precise
ground of objection to your criticism of my
, book, " The Sexes throughout Nature ? "
" What she proposes to do," you affirm, " is
j nothing less than to reduce the whole organic
I world, with all its vital and physical char-
j acters, into exact and demonstrable quanti
tative expression."

I only insist that, until science can offer
us exact quantitative proof that the total
of male characters is in excess of the total
of female characters, no scientist should as
sume to determine, on scientific authority,
that woman is inferior to man. I make no
attempt to place my hypothesis, that, in
each species of being, the sexes are true equiv
alents, on a " demonstrable quantitative "
basis.

Though presented in the form of equa
tions, and defended in a series of carefully-
argued propositions, the theory waits to be
tested experimentally and quantitatively.
It assumes to be nothing but a provisional
hypothesis, destined to be either confirmed
or rejected, as it is found to agree or not to
agree with the decisive facts of Nature. I
merely offer various evidence in defence of
the assumption that, physical powers com
pared with physical, and psychical powers
with psychical, the female is everywhere
the equal of the male of its own species.

CORBESP ONDENCE.

363

Unlike but mutually-adapted physical
growth and expenditure, including the func
tions of reproduction, are held to balance
and -equalize the physical well-being of the
sexes. It is further claimed that their psy
chical powers, dependent upon and working
through adapted organisms, are also thereby
maintained in a perpetually-adjusted equi
librium. The hypothesis assumes true men
tal equivalence, which is secured through
inherent, varying, constitutional provisions.
My sole claim to originality must lie in
the attempt to briefly and insufficiently in
dicate how Nature has wrought to achieve
a continuous and progressive balance of
the sexes from the beginning until now.
It remains to complete the work ; to deter
mine how much of one set of characters is
the mathematical equivalent of counter
balancing quantities.

Extremely accurate and detailed esti
mates are doubtless out of the question.
The simplest computations are so inexact
that even the mean distance of the earth
from the sun still awaits revision. How-
ever, " in time," science must be able to
offer sufficiently accurate, incontrovertible
proof that men and women are, .or are not,
intellectually peers.

A. B. BLACKWELL.
SOMEBVILLE, N. J., Marc/i, 1876.

parts of the sentient, for if it be more
weak or languid, it is said to be cold."

I was under the impression that the
theory concerning heat which involves this
definition is of modern development. What
is the truth on the subject ?

E. K. CRAVEN.

THE "NEW PHILOSOPHY" OF HEAT.
To thci Editor of The, Popular Science Monthly.
IN opening a copy of Bailey s Dic
tionary, published in London in 1775, my
eye fell upon the following : " HEAT (ac
cording to the New Philosophy) very much
consists in the rapidity of motion in the
smaller parts of bodies, and that every
way ; or in the parts being rapidly agitated
all ways. Its operation upon the senses
we call Heat, and is estimated according to
its relation to the organs of feeling, which
motion of its small parts must be brisk
enough to increase or surpass that of the

The doctrine which makes heat consist
in molecular motion, or in an agitation of
the minuter parts of which material things
are constituted, is old as a speculation, but
modern as a scientific demonstration. Locke
said, more than a hundred years ago, " Heat
is a very brisk agitation of the insensible
parts of an object, which produces in us
that sensation from which we denominate
the object hot, so that what in our sensa
tions is heat, in the object is nothing but
motion." Similar views may be vaguely
I traced in the writings of Galileo, Bacon,
[ Newton, Leibnitz, Descartes, Bernoulli, and
j Laplace. But they were unverified con-
< jectures, and could not take their place
among the principles of science until ex
perimentally proved. This was first done
by Count Rumford, in his celebrated experi
ments at the Munich Arsenal, and published
in the " Proceedings of the Royal Society
for 1798." But Rumford s. results were ig-
! nored for half a century. Dr. Whewell
published the history of thermotics in 1837,
; without mentioning him. He was far in
I advance of his age, both in his philosophi
cal views regarding heat and the experi
mental evidence by which he sustained
them. When, from 1840 to 1850, various
physicists and chemists entered upon lines
of research that led to the general doctrine
of the convertibility or correlation of forces,
the labors of Rumford began to be appre
ciated, and the truth concerning the nature
of heat being proved in various ways, be
came accepted in science and part of a
" new philosophy," in a sense quite differ
ent from that in which these terras were
used in the last century.

3 6 4

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

EDITOR S TABLE.

THE RADIOMETER.

"TTTE some months ago printed a
VV paper describing briefly the
leading features of Mr. Crookes s dis
covery of the mechanical action of light.
We this month publish a more elabo
rate article under the same title, with
new illustrations, in which the distin
guished discoverer goes more fully into
the subject, states how he was led into
the investigation, explains the construc
tion of the instrument, traces out the
action of different kinds of rays, shows
the value of the contrivance as a pho
tometer or light-measurer, explains its
magnetic and electrical relations and
how its motions may be recorded, sug
gests its meteorological uses, and final
ly considers its results as determining
the amount of the force of sunlight
upon the earth. Nothing could better
illustrate the wide and complex inter
actions and dependencies of natural
phenomena than the circle of questions
that is opened by the introduction of
this ingenious invention.

The radiometer (so called because
of its capacity of measuring radiations)
is a very simple instrument (as will be
seen by referring to Fig. 8, page 269),
consisting of a small glass globe from
which the air has been pumped out,
and containing four arms supported at
the centre by a fine point, and carrying
at their extremities thin vanes or disks,
white upon one surface and dark upon
the other. When light from any source
falls upon it the arms begin to revolve,
the white surfaces approaching the
light and the dark surfaces receding
from it as if repelled or pushed away.
We have before us a radiometer made
by Geissler, the inventor of " Geissler s
Tubes," which consists of a globe two
and three-quarters inches in diamoti-r.
with its downward stem resting on a

wooden base, the whole being ten iij
high. It is in motion constantly in the
daytime, propelled by the diffused light
from the window, and, if the curtain
be dropped and the room darkened, the
faint light that comes in at the side
maintains it in slow revolution. As the
intensity of the light increases the mo
tion is quickened, and when the instru
ment is placed directly in the solar
rays the revolutions are so rapid that
they cannot be counted. Mr. Crookes
made one instrument so delicate that
a single candle would drive it at forty
revolutions per second.

In the hands of many the radiometer
is now only a curiosity and a toy, yet
to the physicist it is an instrument of
great interest as displaying a new as
pect of dynamical phenomena, and may
help to explain still further the nature
of the radiant forces, and perhaps throw
light upon other questions. It is at
tracting much attention from scientific
men, who may be expected in due time
to report the results of their own re
flections and experiments upon the sub
ject.

SUNDAY AT THE CEVTEXXIAL EXHI
BITION

THE exhibition at Philadelphia lias
many features of interest, one of the
highest of which is that it stands out
before the world in a moral and reli
gious aspect as a tribute to the dignity,
inspiration, and sacredness of conscien
tious and successful labor. The war
riors, politicians, orators, have their
honors elsewhere ; the Centennial Ex
position is an ovation to the u captains
of industry." The multitudinous dis
play is all due to the achievements of
labor, to head-toilers and hand-toilers
the devotees and the heroes of science

EDITOR S TABLE.

365

and art. Each product that is gathered
in that great museum has had its his
tory, which in most cases will show
a long, laborious, painful struggle after
perfection, by faithful study of the laws
of Nature, manifested in the operations
of forces and the properties of matter.
Now, these laws of Nature are the laws
of God, or there are no laws of God.
The divine will is disclosed in the im
mutable ordinances of being, and the
order of the world, or there is no such
disclosure to man. And to seek to
know the divine will as expressed in
the laws by which things are governed,
and to conform action and conduct to
them, is the essence of religion, or there
is no religion. The denial that this
great gathering of the noblest fruits of
the world s thought and industry has in
it a religious element, and is grounded
upon a religious basis, answers to our
notion of atheism and heathenism.
Can we indeed assert that those who
have thrown light into the dark places
of Nature that the earth might be sub
dued, and humanity elevated, and life
beautified and enriched, have not been
engaged in an eminently religious ser
vice? Shall we say that the Eternal
Mind, in instituting the laws of material
things chemical, physical, biological
has claims upon our religious reverence,
while the human mind in discovering
and applying these laws to ends of be
neficence is engaged in a non-religious
work ? If God framed the mysterious
order around us and adapted the human
mind to unfold itself by studying out
these mysteries, can we render him any
truer homage than is implied in the
consecration of thought to these studies,
and in carrying on the constructive
and creative works which the resulting
knowledge makes possible? No! we
heartily agree with Carlyle when he
says, " Older than all preached gospels
is that ever-enduring evangel, work is
worship."

The trophies of productive knowl
edge and inventive genius are brought

together in the vast exhibition, and
what are they but witnesses that men
have studied faithfully and labored well ?
The honesty and integrity of human
effort are attested in the processes and
results. The laws of Nature hold true
there is never a break in the con
tinuities of effect and heat, light^air,
affinities, cohesions, attractions, and all
the properties of elements, and the
habitudes of energy, never falter for an
instant, and all goes on harmoniously
and successfully. Who but the irreli
gious can fail to recognize the solemn
implications of these wonderful results;
and how otherwise can they be con
strued by the reverent mind than as
God s immediate maintenance and in
dorsement of the work ?

The exhibition has been planned and
carried out for one purpose to be seen
and to become a source of instruction
and elevation to the beholders. It is
designed for all classes to come and ex
amine its treasures, and learn its lessons.
The public has been taxed to establish
it for purposes of public use, to be at
tained only by opening its gates to all
coiners. Its influence is undoubtedly
salutary and elevating and to be every
way promoted. Attendance is expen
sive, difficult to many, and impossible
to many more. It has been enormous
ly costly that it might be greatly valu
able ; and its managers are bound to
leave nothing undone to carry out its
design, which is to be open to the in
spection of the largest possible number
of people.

Yet, strange to say, the commission
ers who control it have decided that it
shall be shut up fourteen per cent, of the
available time ! They have decided to
destroy one-seventh of its usefulness.
They decree that one day in the week
nobody shall see it. Though so exten
sive that much time is required for even
a partial observation of it, the managers
determine that .the little time visitors
have shall be curtailed. And, what is
worse, they shut it up the very day of

366

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

all others when it would be most avail
able to thousands. Though designed
to honor labor, it is closed at the only
time when multitudes of laborers have
an opportunity to attend it.

And what is the reason of so appar
ently extraordinary and stultifying a
course ? After so much trouble to get
it open, why do the commissioners shut
it up this considerable portion of the
time ? The answer is, it is done in the
name of religion ! Religious people
protest that its opening on Sunday
would be a violation of the sacredness
of that day, and a violation of the laws
that enforce its religious observance.
Influential religious bodies have passed
resolutions and sent committees to Phil
adelphia to press this view upon the
commissioners. Now, we strongly pro
test against this assumption that the
opening of the exhibition any day of
the week will be an irreligious act.
The Jew may hold it wicked to visit
the show on Saturday, and the Chris
tian may hold it sinful to visit it on
Sunday, and both may obey their con
sciences and stay away on the days they
hold sacred ; but to force their views
upon people who think differently is
not a dictate of religion but of per
secuting bigotry. A century or two
hence, in revising the " History of the
Conflict," it will be contemptuously
denied that religion was responsible
for shutting up the Industrial Exhi
bition of 1876, against the people,
and nullifying its usefulness one day in
the week. It will be attributed to
superstition, to theological influence
and sectarian intolerance. It will be
said it is a libel on religion to charge it
with the narrowness and prejudice of
the times when such a thing could be
done.

The position of the Sunday question
is simply tins : there are two Sundays
which we are called upon to recognize
in different ways, and on totally <li<-
tinct ground-, namely, the Sunday
of rest from labor for secular reasons,

and the puritanical Sunday, devoted to
pious observances. The former is en
forced by the state, on grounds of pub
lic and general utility ; the latter is
enforced by theological influences for
reasons claiming to be religious, and
stands upon an ecclesiastical basis. The
secular Sunday the Sunday of rest
from labor is an institution aiming to
promote the social welfare, appealing
to the sanctions of reason, and is en
forced with the discretions of common-
sense, and under limits which recognize
the admissibility of a certain amount
of labor for the general benefit. These
are the considerations to which all par
ties appeal in advocating a day of rest,
and they are the sole considerations by
which legislators have any right to be
moved in legally establishing it. Grant
ing their right to ordain a general sus
pension of labor one day in the week,
for the general good, they have no war
rant to go a step beyond this in the
direction of restraints upon the free
action of individual citizens. They
have no more authority to establish a
particular religious day than to estab
lish a particular religion. When people
desist from work on Sunday, they com
ply with all that the state can justly
require of them, and are left free to
occupy themselves in any way tln-y
please, subject to the usual regulation-
of conduct which are in force at all
times.

But ecclesiastical influence is con
stantly striving to turn the secular Sun
day to theological account, and to in
voke the interference of law with the
freedom of citizens in religious matters.
The history of the puritanical Sunday
has been for centuries the history of
meddling with the liberties of conduct,
of the coercion of conscience, and the
enforcement of observances on alleged
religious grounds. The most innocent
actions have been held as profanation
of the Lord s day. All amusements
were forbidden as wicked, and it was
held as sinful to kindle the fire, or

EDITOR S TABLE.

367

dress meat, or visit the neighbors, or
walk abroad in the fields. Acts intrin
sically proper have been construed as
crimes if done on Sunday. The absurdi
ties of Sabbatarian legislation illustrate
the grossest superstitions of the past.
The following statement from Cox s
"Sabbath Laws" represents the char
acter and logic of the old practices:
"At Aberdeen, in the month of Novem
ber, 1608, a great panic arose by reason
of an earthquake which had visited the
city, and as the cause of the earthquake
was distinctly traceable to the custom
of salmon-fishing on Sunday, the pro
prietors of the salmon-fishings were
summoned before the Session and sol
emnly rebuked." This may seem ridic
ulous, but do we not still hear of the
judgments that follow Sabbath-break
ing?

And it is important to note that,
when viewed even theologically, the
strictness of the Puritan Sunday is
without authority. If the Old Testa
ment is appealed to, the fourth com
mandment forbids work with emphatic
detail on the seventh day of the week,
but forbids nothing else. If the New
Testament is appealed to, we find Christ
nowhere establishing Sunday, but en
tertaining such latitudinarian views on
the subject as to incur the reproaches
of the pietistic Pharisees for Sabbath-
breaking. And in reply to their pu
ritanical notions he curtly told them
that "the Sabbath was made for man,
and not man for the Sabbath." Hence
it has been justly said that " Christ
himself did nothing more by word
or act than protest against the super
stitious abuses which in course of time
had grown around the Sabbath." Paul
exhorts the Colossians to independence
of thought upon the subject, and to let
no man judge them in respect of holi
days, new moons, and Sabbath-days.
It is alleged that there is no evidence
that the early Christians kept Sunday,
or the first day of the week, with Jew
ish strictness, but that it was first en

forced by law in A. D. 386 by the Em
peror Constantine, " who attached just
as much importance to his own birthday
as to the day of the Lord." But the
puritanical spirit grew apace. " In
proportion as the Church triumphed
over paganism, so did the Christian
days over those of the old world. The
Church naturally used every effort to
secure an increased respect for the days
of its own creation. And though it was
not till the time of Leo the Philosopher
(889-910) that Sunday field-work was
forbidden by an imperial law, in refer
ence to public games and amusements
the ascetic tendencies of the Church
were earlier and more generally felt. The
first innovation in this direction was
the law of Theodosius the Elder, which
included in its prohibition not only sec
ular business but secular amusements.
Abstinence, therefore, from toil and
pleasure, having thus become the law of
the Christian empire, the subsequent
history of Sunday resolves itself simply
into an extension of the principle."

Coming down to the Reformation,
we find its master-spirits still struggling
against the tendency to Sabbatarian in
tolerance. "Cranmer speaks of Sun
day and other days as mere appoint
ments of the magistrates, but considers
that a sufficient reason for their observ
ance." Tyndale says: "As for the Sab
bath, we le lords of the Sabbath, and may
yet change it into Monday, or into any
other day as we see need, or may make
every tenth day a holy day, only as we
see cause why; neither need we any
holy day at all if the people might be
taught without." Luther said: "If any
where any one sets up its observance
on a Jewish foundation, then I order
you to work on it, to ride on it, to dance
on it, to do anything that shall remove
the encroachments on Christian liber
ty." Calvin, in this, was equally lib
eral, and set an example by playing the
game of bowls on Sunday. In all these
cases we note the recognition of Suii-
dav as a human institution, subordinate

3 68

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to the uses of man, while the puritani
cal Sunday, which ivproses recreations
and stifles worldly enjoyments, is re-
1 and repudiated. The institution
in its theological aspects is, therefore,
destitute of any authoritative religious
sanction. But, after centuries of con
test between liherality and intolerance,
the issue is still the same. As a day of
rest from lahor, Sunday is objected to
by but few ; and to the slave and the
convict, and the millions of toil-worn
operatives in factory, mine, and field,
who earn their subsistence by the sweat
of the brow, it is indeed a precious
boon. To the multitudes doomed to a
life of brutalized drudgery in barbaric
times, it came as a blessed relief ; and
it is, perhaps, scarcely loss necessary
when the pressures of enterprise and
competition would wear men out if
no check was interposed. But the sour
and gloomy Sunday of religious asceti
cism the austere Sabbath of the sanc
timonious Pharisee requires to be re-
Msted now as much as it was resisted
by the founder of Christianity himself.
In regard to the strict observance of
Sunday, men have undoubtedly a right.
to do as they please under our guar
antees of religious liberty; but they
have no right to force their views upon
others by perverting the legal day of
rest to assumed religious objects, and by
making it a hinderance to enjoyment
and improvement on the part of those
who desire so to employ it, and who
are not to be judged by others in their
manner of doing it.

It is objected to the opening of the
exhibition on Sunday that it would
involve the labor of many in attending
to its operations, running trains, etc.
But even the superstitions Jews had
sense enough to interpret the fourth
commandment as allowing works of
necessity. A certain amount of Sunday
labor is everywhere recognized as un
avoidable, and as long as cookin_r, the
running of Sunday cars and can
police surveillance, and the distribution

of the mails, are carried on in Philadel
phia under Pennsylvania laws, the ob
jection to opening the exhibition he-
cause it would violate the law airain>t
Sunday labor is futile.

But we insist upon keeping the ar
gument upon its highest grounds. We
showed at the outset that the charac
ter and influence of such an exhibition
are not only in the highest degree moral
and salutary, but are also essentially
religious ; its opening every day of the
week is therefore defensible on strictly
religious grounds. "We have further
more shown that the religious reasons
offered, for shutting it up on Sunday,
are baseless. The considerations urged
for closing are hence exactly those
which require it to be free of access to
the public in other words, religion re
quires the opening. If it be alleged that
the people would not see these higher
meanings of the objects displayed, that
only shows the defects of their religious
training; and that there is all the more
need of insisting upon this higher office
of the exhibition. And if they are thus
insensible to the moral and religious
significance of so grand a collection of
the noblest and most perfect products
of human thought and skill, what more
proper than to point out to them the
elevated lessons that they teach? And
if, instead of demanding that the exhi
bition shall be suppressed one day in
the week, as if it were a public nui
sance, the committees who have taken
so deep an interest in the matter had
asked the commissioners to arrange
for religious services in one of the great
halls, and to provide for discourses de
signed to bring out the higher instruc-
tiveness of the occasion and the demon
stration, we think that they would have
much better subserved the interests of
true religion. The religious lesson that
the commissioners have now lent them
selves to inculcate is that people shut
out from the Centennial buildings shall
go to other buildings to think upon
God ; and that, therefore, the Centen-

LITERARY NOTICES.

369

nial collection is a mere godless, sor
did, anti-religious affair. But the peo
ple do not go to the appointed places
of religious assembly. They crowd
around the grounds by thousands, and
occupy themselves in drinking at the
saloons, and in cursing the bigotry of
the management which forbids them to
look upon the objects within, on the day
that the State forbids them to work.

We fear, however, that any consid
erations of principle will be wasted
upon the commissioners. The reasons
they avow for forbidding entrance to
the grounds on Sunday are not of a
very elevated kind. In the report of
the majority, after referring to the
legislation of the country to prevent
" secular business operations " on the
"Christian Sabbath," they say : "Any
action of this commission which is
in conflict with the public sentiment
expressed in these laws and in their
practical observance will, in the judg
ment of your committee, so shock the
moral sense of the country that it will
jeopardize the success of the Centen
nial Exhibition, and turn the most pow
erful agencies throughout the land from
active support to decided opposition.
Your committee, therefore, recommend
that the commission adhere to the pol
icy which has heretofore governed its
actions on this subject." It is not the
"moral sense" of the community that
would be shocked by opening the ex
hibition on Sunday. The "powerful
agencies throughout the land " that
would oppose it by deterring people
from attendance on week-days, because
those who wish it were admitted on
Sunday, are not impelled by "moral
sense," but by a narrow spirit of intol
erance which is as immoral as the spirit
of any other tyranny. The commis
sioners are of course bound to do every
proper thing to insure the success of
the exhibition ; but they are not bound
to eliminate all higher considerations
from their conception of "success."
We could wish them a little more ele

vation of view on this great national
occasion ; and in regard to their Sun
day policy a little more of the spirit of
Christ and Paul, Tyndale and Luther ;
a little more, indeed, of the genuine
" spirit of Seventy-six."

LITERARY NOTICES.

THE ANCIENT REGIME. By HIPPOLYTE
ADOLPHE TAINE, author of "A History
of English Literature," " Italy," etc.
Translated by JOHN DURAND. New York :
Henry Holt & Co. Pp. 421. Price,
$2.50.

ALTHOUGH M. Taine has made his repu
tation as a literary man, he must be credited
with a genuine feeling for philosophical in
quiry, and if not a scientist in the thorough
sense, he nevertheless aspires to carry on
his inquiries by scientific method. The
present work is written from this point of
view. Its author takes the modern stand
point in the study of history, and recog
nizes the futility of politics, when not guided
by the principles of national development.
His attitude of mind, and the spirit which
he has brought to his task, are so admira
bly presented in the following passage from
his preface, that we transcribe his own
words. After stating that in 1849 he was
twenty-one years old, and was called upon
to vote, he remarks :

"It was optional with me to be royalist or
republican, democrat or conservative, socialist
or Bonapartist ; I was neither, nor even any
thing at all, and, at times, I envied so many peo
ple of faith who had the good fortune to be
something. After hearing the various doctrines
I felt that there was undoubtedly some void in
my mind. Motives valid for others were not so
for me ; I conld not understand how in politics
one could make up his mind according to his
predilections. Peremptory advisers constructed
a constitution as if it were a house, according
to the most attractive, the newest, and the sim
plest plan, holding up for consideration the
mansion of a marquis, the domicile of a bour
geois, a tenement for workmen, barracks for
soldiers, the communist phalanstery, and even
a camp for savages. Each one asserted of hia
model, This is the true abode of man, the only
one a man of sense can dwell in. In my opin
ion, the argument was weak ; personal fancies
are not authorities. It appears to me that a
house mi2ht not be built for the architect, nor
for itself, but for the owner and occupant. To
ask the opinion of the owner, to submit plans

VOL. IX. 24

370

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to the French people of its future dwellings,
was too evidently a parade or a deception: in
euch cases the question is tantamount to the
:m-\ver, and, besides, had this answer been un
conditioned, France was scarcely more at lib
erty to give it than I was ; ten million ignorant
men cannot constitute a wise one. A people on
being consulted may indeed tell the form of gov
ernment they like, but not the form they need ;
this is possible only through experience; time
is required to ascertain if the political dwelling
is convenient, durable, proof against inclemen
cies, suited to the occupant s habits, pursuits,
character, peculiarities, and caprices. Now, as
proof of this, we have never been content with
our own ; within eighty years we have pulled
it down thirteen times in order to rebuild it,
and this we have done in vain, not having yet
found one that suits us. If other people have
been more fortunate, if in other countries many
political institutions are durable and last indefi
nitely, it is because they have been organized
in a peculiar manner, around a primitive and
massive nucleus, supported on some old central
edifice, many times repaired, but always pre
served, enlarged by degrees, adapted and modi
fied, according to the wants of the inhabitants.
None of them were built at one stroke on a new
pattern, and according to the provisions of
reason alone. We must perhaps admit that
there is no other way of building permanently,
and that the sudden concoction of a new consti
tution, suitable and durable, is an undertaking
surpassing the forces of the human mind. In
any event, I came to the conclusion that if we
should ever discover the one we need it will not
be by the means in practice. The point is to
discover it, if it exists, and not to put it to vote.
In this respect our preferences would be fruit
less ; Nature and history have chosen for us in
advance ; it is for us to adapt ourselves to them
as it is certain they will accommodate them
selves to us. The social and political mould in
to which a nation may enter and remain is not
subject to its will, but determined by its charac
ter and its past."

From this point of view, M. Taine came
to the conclusion that his country needed,
first of all, to be studied systematically, and
the present work is the first of a series
which together are designed to constitute a
philosophic study of modern France. The
"Anc-it-nt IU\L r ime," the volume now pub
lished, is devoted to the pre-Hevolntionary
period, and is to be followed by a work on
the French Revolution, which will in turn
be preparatory to a third, on the " Xew Re
gime," <le~i _ r n<. <l to interpret recent and con
temporary France. The enterprise will be
executed with the undoubted ability that
di-tiniruislHS this brilliant and versatile au
thor, ami will p.Tmancntly identify his name
with modern French history. At any rate,

the present book is instructive and fasci
nating to a remarkable degree. It is at the
same time a vivid and life-like picture of
French society anterior to the Revolution,
and a subtile and comprehensive analysis
of the forces at work in it, that i
in the revolutionary outbreak. A marked
characteristic of the work is the freshness
of a large portion of its materials, resulting
from the author s indefatigable researches
among hitherto unexplored masses of origi
nal correspondence, documents, and records.

THE WARFARE OF SCIEXCK. By ANDREW
DICKSON WHITE, LL. D. New York :
D. Appleton & Co. Pp. 161. Price,
cloth, $1 ; paper, 50 cents.

THE admirable lecture of President
White upon this subject, which was pub
lished in THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY
for February and March, is now issued in a
separate form, with important additions,
by the author. Although a small book, it
covers broad ground, and treats the subject
in a decisive way. The thesis maintained
is this : " In all modern history, interference
with science in the supposed interest of religion,
no matter how conscientious such interference
may have been, has resulted in the direst evils
both to religion and to science, and invariably.
And, on the other hand, all untrammeled
scientific investigation, no matter how dan
gerous to religion some of its stages may have
seemed, for the time, to be, has invariably re
sulted in the highest good of religion and of
science." In working out the proof of these
propositions, President White has traversed
an extensive field of historical resources,
dealing successively with the rise and
progress of geography, astronomy, chem
istry and physics, anatomy and medicine,
geology, political economy, agriculture and
engineering, and scientific instruction. The
whole discussion has been carefully gone
over, and much amplified in its present
form. In his preface the author says: "I
have now given it careful revision, correct
ing some errors, and extending it largely
by presenting new facts and developing T-
rious points of interest in the general dis
cussion. Among the subjects added or re-
wrought are : in astronomy, the struggle of
Galileo and the retreat of the Church after
its victory ; in chemistry and physics, the
compromise between science and theology

LITERARY NOTICES.

371

made by Thomas Aquinas, and the unfor
tunate route taken by science in conse
quence ; in anatomy and medicine, the ear
lier growth of ecclesiastical distrust of these
sciences ; in scientific education, the deal
ings of various European universities with
scientific studies ; in political and social sci
ence, a more complete statement of the oppo
sition of the Church, on scriptural grounds,
to the taking of interest for money ; and in
the conclusion, a more careful summing up."
The distinguishing feature of this little
volume, and which will make it eminently
valuable and useful at the present time,
is its copious and careful notes, which
give authoritative support to the argument.
Nothing important is left to rest upon mere
assertion. The battle that Science has had
to fight from the beginning, and without re
mission, with ignorance, prejudice, and in
tolerance, inspired and directed by ecclesi
astical influence, is vividly delineated in the
text, and the positions taken are so forti
fied by citations from works of the highest
character as to leave little room for further
controversy. That the history of Science
has been throughout a struggle with the
theologians, and that the Bible has been
used by devout believers in its infallible in
spiration to crush out the results of scientific
inquiry, are perfectly well known ; while
that science is still dreaded and denounced
on religious grounds, and that the Bible
is still extensively appealed to against its
conclusions, are now so obvious that there
is certainly no reason for doubting its em
ployment in the same way, in less enlight
ened times. But there are so many who
are inclined to forget, and belittle, and ex
plain away the uglier features of the past
conflict, that it becomes necessary to array
the evidence of it in book and page, chap
ter and verse, as President White has done.
Nothing is to be gained, at any rate, by ig
noring historic truth, and bigotry and su
perstition still offer too vigorous a resistance
to the advance of rational inquiry to make
it desirable that we should quite forget the
painful lessons of the past.

DlE HUNDERTJAHRIGE REPUBLIK. Von JOHN

H. BECKER. Augsburg: Lampart &
Co. Pp. 440.

THE author of the " Centennial Repub
lic," during a sojourn of several years hi the

United States, was a critical observer of
our social and political life. The result of
his observations is a merciless exposure of
all the vices and defects of republican in
stitutions as they exist in this country.
The work is in reality a pamphlet intended
to influence the minds of Germans living at
home, and to dissuade them from emigrat
ing to the United States. Mr. Becker has
three chapters on the condition of the
working-class ; several chapters on politics
and government, rings, carpet-baggery, cor
ruption, the lobby ; finally, he treats of the
family, education of children, and a number
of other subjects. The author is an advo
cate, and does full justice to the cause he
defends ; the brighter side of American life
is not his concern.

FRENCH POLITICAL LEADERS. By E. KING.
Also, GERMAN POLITICAL LEADERS. By
HERBERT TUTTLE. Pp. 264. New
York : Putnams. Price, $1.50 each.

THESE two volumes are numbered re
spectively III. and IV. in Putnam s series
of " Brief Biographies," designed to ac
quaint the American public with the char
acters and services of eminent politicians
and statesmen abroad. In vol. iii. we have
sketches of twenty-three of the foremost
political leaders of France, and in vol. iv. of
nineteen men prominent in the political life
of Germany. Both Mr. King and Mr. Tut-
tle have enjoyed the advantage of personal
acquaintance with several of the subjects of
their biographies ; in all cases they have
had the best opportunities for studying the
men whose lives they describe. They are
no transcribers of biographical notes and
dates, their aim being rather to portray
character than to inform the reader of the
dry and impertinent details of a man s career.

HISTORY OP THE UNITED STATES. By J. A.
DOYLE. New York: Holt. Price, $1.40.

THIS is beyond question the best man
ual of the history of the United States that
has yet been written. The style is plain
and marked by directness ; and the author
usually assigns to events their true propor
tions, as viewed from the standpoint of the
impartial historian. Four graphical maps
exhibit 1. The changes in territory; and,
2. The distribution of population in 1790,
1830, and 1870.

372

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE CHILDHOOD OK RELIGIONS: EMBRACING
A SIMPLE ACCOUNT OF THE BIRTH AND
GROWTH OF MYTHS AND LEGENDS. By
EDWARD CLODD, F. R. A. S. New York :
D. Appleton & Co. Pp. 288. Price, $1.25.
THE author of this book published, two
or three years since, a little volume entitled
41 The Childhood of the World," m which
he presented, in a familiar way, designed
for perusal by the young, the modern doc
trine of the antiquity of the world, and
something of that which is now regarded as
known concerning the primitive condition
of man. The success that attended his
former undertaking has led him to break
into another and a kindred field, and to
present, in a popular and readable form,
what is considered to be known in relation
to primitive religions. The author regards
the two works as but parts of one argu
ment, and the present volume as the natu
ral and necessary outgrowth of the former.
Of the need and purpose of such an expo
sition he remarks, at the opening :

" The question which forces itself upon all
who are interested in the education of the young
is what they shall be taught regarding the rela
tion of the Bible to other sacred scriptures, and
to the declarations of modern science when they
fail to harmonize with its statements ; and it is
as a humble contribution to the solution of that
question that the present and preceding vol
umes have been written. In an age which has
been truly characterized by a leading thinker as
one of 4 weak convictions, it seems to me in
cumbent on those who, in accepting the con
clusions to which the discoveries of our time
point, regard the inevitable displacement of
many beliefs without fear, because assured that
the great verities remain, to be faithful to their
convictions, and to show that the process of de
struction is removing only the scaffolding which,
once useful, now obscures the temple from our
view. In the absence of any like elementary
treatise upon subjects regarding which much
ignorance and apathy prevail, and the treatment
of which is at present confined to works for the
most part high-priced, and not always acces
sible. I hope that this book may not be regarded
as needless, however far it falls short of the re
quirement which appears to me to exist, and
which it ventures to temporarily supply."

The book is very plainly written, and
gives a great deal of interesting information
about myths and legends of the creation,
religious beliefs of the Aryan or Indo-Euro
pean nations, the religion of the ancient
and modern Hindoos, Buddhism, and the
ancient religions of Persia, China, and the
Semitic nations. Much is said upon these

subjects nowadays by learned men, and Mr.
Clodd s volume is a good popular introduc
tion to this field of literature.

THE PHYSICAL BASIS or IMMORTALITY. By
AMOINKIN: I .KOWN lii.. \CK\VKI.I
York : G. P. Putnam s Sons. Pp. 324.
Price, $1.50.

THIS volume is an intrepid attempt to
establish the doctrine of personal immor
tality on the scientific basis of modern phys
ical theories. The indestructibility of mat
ter and force, and the existence of atoms or
units, are the principles Mrs. Blackwell em
ploys as the foundation of her argument.
We cannot here analyze it, but will give
the author s standpoint in her own words :
" It must be a part of my effort to offer suffi
cient evidence that actual indestructible centres
of force do exist in Nature ; and that no force is
or ever can be, during the present order of nat
ural events, separated from its own individual
centre of activities. If this form of the atomic
theory can be proved ; if atoms can be shown to
exist, and to persist in the midst of all change*,
these atoms then become the unshaken basis of
a personal immortality. We have only to fur
ther show that there are centres of atomic force,
some of whose modes of e nergizing are sen
tient modes, and the whole case will be gained "
(page 89).

"Mind is matter and something more. Every
mind is an indestructible material unit, consti
tuted by allied force and extension, jointly con
ditioned with sentient force or contciousnest. The
whole is an indivisible and immortal conscious
personality" (page 175).

WILLIAM WHEWELL, D. D., MASTER OF TRIN
ITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. AN ACCOUNT
OF HIS WRITINGS, WITH SKI i not
HIS LITERARY AND S< IKNTIH-
SPONDENCE. By I. TODHUMH:, M. A .,
F. R. S. Two Vols., 416 and 439 pp.
New York: Macrnillan & Co. P
WE have long waited lor a lite of Dr.
Whewell, and although we have not found
it in these volumes, in the usual seiir-e of
the biography, yet we have here what may
be called a history of his intellectual lit .-.
as disclosed in the informal and fragmen
tary passages of an exti-n.-ive OOTTetpOncl-
ence. Sir John Her.-chel lias said of Dr.
Wbewell that "a more wonderful variety
and amount of knowledge in almost every
department of human inquiry ifM perhaps
never in the same interval of time accumu
lated by any man." Of this, his numerous
and learned publication- hear ample wit
ness, and it is of course from these that

LITERARY NOTICES.

373

the intellectual character of the man is to
be properly deduced. But our interest in
him is greatly heightened by the glimpses
of a strong personality, which these vol
umes reveal in his free and extensive inter
course with the intellectual celebrities of
the time. We have no space for illustra
tions of the quality of these most readable
books, but the following reference to Dr.
Lardner will give a sample of their general
spiciness :

" Mr. HerscheFs discourse " (on natural philoso
phy) "was published in Lardner s Cabinet Cyclo
paedia, 1 and he afterward contributed to the same se
ries an elementary Treatise on Astronomy. Prof.
Whewell was not quite satisfied with the channel
which his eminent friend thus accepted for his
writings. Dr. Lardner was a man of scientific at
tainments, and of considerable ability for popular
exposition ; his importunity in urging the fulfillment
of the promises which he obtained of cooperation
in his Cyclopaedia, 1 and his name Dionysius, which
it was conjectured he had himself modified from
the more familiar Denis, naturally led to the appel
lation tyrant, which was given to him in a good-
tempered manner by Southey and other literary
men of the period. , He made various attempts to
induce Prof. Whewell to join his staff, and in par
ticular during the present year wished to engage
him to write on political economy ; but the appli
cations were in vain. Prof. Whewell, perhaps, men
tioned the matter to Mr. Jones, as we may conject-
ture from a sentence in a letter from him : I should
like to write a treatise for the tyrant if he would
wait two or three years, but he shall not have the
premices of my speculations. 1 "

THE CHRIST OF PAUL ; OR, THE ENIGMAS OF
CHRISTIANITY. By C. REBER. New York :
Somerby. Price, $2.00.
THE principal topics considered in this
volume are, the influence of the Essenes
and Therapeutse on the development of the
Christian system; the origin of the four
Gospels ; the influence of Irenaeus on Chris
tian beliefs ; the dogma of tire Trinity ; the
origin of the Episcopate and of the Papacy ;
the miracles attributed to Christ, the Apos
tles, and their successors.

CONNECTION OF METEOROLOGY WITH HEALTH.

By WILLIAM BLASIUS.

IN this paper the author strives to as
sign a philosophical reason for " the well-
known fact " that, during all ages, cities,
where topographical impediments do not in
terfere, extend, as a general rule, from east
to west, and that the wealthiest people are
always in the advance.

LESSONS FROM NATURE, AS MANIFESTED IN
MIND AND MATTER. By ST. GEORGE
MIVART, Ph. D., F. R. S. Pp. 462.
New York : D. Appleton & Co. Price,

$2.

THE title of this book is somewhat mis
leading. We should expect to find in its
pages a cool, didactic statement of the re
sult of observations and studies in natural
history, perhaps, or in some of the familiar
aspects of Nature. But, instead of simple
lessons or inculcations from natural things,
presented in a quiet and instructive form,
we have a book full of rancorous contro
versy and bitter polemics. Mr. Mivart has
achieved some reputation as an anatomist
and biologist, and is by no means destitute
of expository power, but the discussions in
this volume show that he is more a theolo
gian than a scientist, more a bigot than a
philosopher, and more fond of fighting than
teaching. He makes a series of vindictive
assaults upon men with whom he does not
agree, and then names -the result " Lessons
from Nature." A writer in the Quarterly
Journal of Science administers to Mr. Mivart
a well-merited castigation for his unscrupu
lous course in dealing with contemporary
thinkers, and we publish a portion of the
article under the title of " Bigotry and Sci
entific Controversy." The writer treats
him unsparingly, but we think justly, and
condemns in terms of merited severity the
practice, not yet extinct, of appealing to
the odium tlieologicum, which " in its most
malignant form pervades the entire book."
" Lessons from Nature " is a discussion
of the tendencies of modern theories which
are associated with the names of Darwin,
Spencer, Mill, Helmholtz, Huxley, Lewes,
and others, which are variously character
ized by this author as immoral, irreligious,
materialistic, and atheistic. The course of
thought is more metaphysical than physi
cal, and the volume derives but little value
from the scientific acquirements ^of the
writer. Indeed, he had already told us in
his " Genesis of Species " all that he has to
say in opposition to the views of Darwin,
and here it is only restated with the garnish
of abuse and invective. But, although him
self committed in the " Genesis of Species "
to the doctrine of Evolution, and saying, as
he does at page 16, "the prevalence of this
theory need alarm no one, for it is, without

374

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

any doubt, perfectly consistent with the
strictest and most orthodox Christian the
ology," yet his present book is a battle
with the Evolutionists, and the consequences
of the theory, and in the interest of Catholic
orthodoxy. And the champion proves to
be not a whit too good for the cause he
represents. In the survivals from savagery
the same spirit only changes its instruments
the tomahawk is replaced by the pen.
Those who delight in vicious polemics will
find Mr. Mivart s volume an unusual treat.

A NEW ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF CHEMISTRY, THEO
RETICAL, PRACTICAL, AND ANALYTICAL,
AS APPLIED TO THE ARTS AND MANUFACT
URES. By Writers of Eminence. Il
lustrated with numerous Steel-Cuts and
Engravings. Complete in 40 Parts. 50
cents each. Philadelphia : Lippincott &
Co.

WE have received five numbers of this
work, which promises to be valuable and
exhaustive. It is constructed upon the ba
sis of the elaborate work, " Chemistry as
applied to the Arts and Manufactures," by
the late Dr. Muspratt, which was published
twenty years ago. But twenty years anti-
quates a chemical book, especially when it
deals with the application of science to the
arts. Numerous and important improve
ments in chemical manufacture have been
made within the last quarter of a century,
which make new statements indispensable
to those who are concerned with practical
processes. The thoroughness of treatment
adopted in this work is illustrated by the
fact that nearly the whole of the first part
is devoted to acetic acid and its salts. Al
cohol occupies the second part; and alum,
ammonia, aniline dyes, antimony, and ar
senic, are treated with a corresponding full
ness. In their prospectus the publishers
remark : " Convinced that the infinite vari
ety of subjects now embraced in such a
work could be adequately treated by no one
writer, however learned or painstaking, the
assistance of the leading chemists of the
present day has been secured, as well as of
writers who are practically acquainted with
all the details of our great manufactures."
But no names are given, either of editor or
collaborators. Something would, no doubt,
be gained by knowing to whom the execu
tion of so large an enterprise has been in
trusted, but we admire the pluck that puts

the work forth and a subscription-book at
that without the parade of names, and lets
it go squarely upon its merits. It deserves
to succeed.

ANGOLA AND THE RIVER CONGO. By J. J.

MONTEIKO. With Maps and Illustra
tions. Pp. 354. New York: Maemil-
lan & Co. Price, $2.50.

WE have not seen lately a more thor
oughly interesting and instructive book of
travels than this. The author spent several
years in the country he describes, and his
travels extended from the Congo River on
the north, down the coast through about 10
of latitude. Most of his time was spent
among the trading-towns at the mouths of
rivers and along the coast, but he had fre
quent opportunities of studying the simple-
minded savages of the interior. He found
the natives kindly disposed if well treated.
He was accompanied by his wife in his
journeys, to whom the book is dedicated in
a few touching and appropriate words. His
travels seem to have been connected with a
discovery made by himself in 1858, that the
bark of the baobab-tree is of value in the
making of paper. Many parts of the regions
visited were covered by forests of this tree.

Among the natives fetichism prevails
everywhere. Anything, as a tree, or ani
mal, or an old rag, may be a fetich. No
body dies a natural death, but is fetiched.

These people are not degraded, but rep
resent a low stage of culture. They are
undeveloped not distinguished so much by
the presence of positively bad as by the
absence of good qualities. They are strange
ly wanting in the feelings :

" The negro knows not love, affection, or
jealousy. I have never seen a negro mani
fest the least tenderness to a negress. They
have no words or expressions in their lan
guage indicative of affection or love. Their
passion is purely of an animal description,
without affection. Mothers rarely play witli
or fondle their babies ; as for kissing them,
such a thing is not known ; yet I have never
seen a woman grossly neglect her child."

The book abounds with information con
cerning the climate, productions, physical
geography, and general natural histor? of
the region, and is a treasure equally to the
general reader and to the student of this
part of the vast African wilderness.

LITERARY NOTICES.

375

A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON ROADS, STREETS,
AND PAVEMENTS. By Q. A. GILLMORE,
A. M. Pp. 258. New York: D. Van
Nostrand. Price, $2.

A MUCH-NEEDED and most excellent lit-
tie manual. There is no better measure of
civilization than the state of the highways
in city or country, and judged by that
standard the American people are not much
advanced. Bad roads prevail roads badly
laid out, badly constructed, and kept in bad
order and, while this general badness is an
enormous burden upon the community, in
volving waste of horse-flesh, vehicles, time,
and obstruction of business, there is still a
degree of ignorance concerning the me
chanics of the subject that is surprising
among a people who make such large pre
tensions to enterprise. There are well-es
tablished principles in road-laying, road-
making, and road-management, the viola
tion or neglect of which entails such seri
ous losses that it is a matter of public
economy to wake up any community to the
importance of the subject. General Gill-
more s book gives the latest information
regarding it, within moderate limits, and he
thus states the leading objects that have
been kept in view in its preparation :

" 1. To give withiu the compass of one small
volume such descriptions of the various meth
ods of locating country roads, and of construct
ing the road and street coverings in more or
less common use at the present day, ae will ren
der the essential details of those methods, as
well as certain improvements thereon of which
many of them are believed to be susceptible,
familiar to any intelligent non-professional
reader. 2. To make such practical suggestions
with respect to the selection and application of
materials, more especially those with the prop
erties and nses of which builders are presumed
to be the least acquainted, as seem needful in
order to develop their greatest practical worth
and realize their greatest endurance. 3. To in
stitute a just and discriminating comparison of
the respective merits of the several street
pavements now competing for popular recogni
tion and favor, under the varying conditions of
traffic, climate, and locality, to which they are
commonly subjected."

USES OP A TOPOGRAPHICAL SURVEY OF NEW
YORK. By JAMES I. GARDNER.
THE uses of a topographical survey of
the State, as set forth in this paper, are as
follows: 1. Such survey is a necessary ba
sis for equalizing taxation ; 2. It will es
tablish imperishably every property boun

dary in the State ; 3. It will make it possible
to describe correctly the area of real estate
conveyed by a deed; 4. It will afford fa
cilities for proper plans of suburban drain
age and water-supply, and extensions of
village streets and country roads ; 5. It
will furnish a basis for a scientific survey
of the State s resources.

THE AMERICAN STATE AND STATESMEN. By
W. G. Dix. Boston, Estes & Lauriat.
Price, $1. 50.

IN his preface the author asks the ques
tion, " Have we not been trying to get along
somehow for nearly a hundred years with
out any principle of government ? " If so,
it is full time to discover a principle of some
kind. From the titles of two or three chap
ters, such as " Christianity the Inspirer of
Nations," "America a Christian Power,"
" Materialism the Curse of America," it
would appear that the author s prescription
for all our political ills is Christian states
manship. And, when the nation has been
saved, we must head a grand crusade against
Mohammedan sovereignty in Eastern Europe,
Western Asia, and Northern Africa !

THE BIBLE AND SCIENCE. By J. WEISS. Also,
THE SYMPATHY OF RELIGIONS. By T. W.
HIGGINSON.

THESE are tracts published by the Free
Religious Association, Boston. They are in
tended to popularize the ideas and aims of
a body of thoughtful men and women, and
are sold at the low price of $3.00 per
hundred copies. The tracts already pub
lished are four in number, including, besides
the two named above, one on " Taxation of
Church Property," by James Parton, and
one on "Transcendentalism," by the late
Theodore Parker.

NOTES ON THE YUCCA-BORER. By C. Y.

RILEY, Ph. D. Pp. 23. St. Louis : R.

P. Studley.

THE roots or subterranean trunks of
yuccas are often found to be hollowed out
along the axis ; this tunneling is the work
of the yucca-borer (Megathymus yuccce).
In the paper before us, Prof. Riley gives
the results of his studies upon this insect.
He is inclined to regard the yucca-borer as
the representative of an ancient type from
which are derived on the one hand the
Castnians, on the other the Hcsperians.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

EXERCISES IN EI-KITUM-AF. AND M\<.

MKAH KKMKNr. Hv K. K. DAY, M. A. Pp,
I".". London: Longmans, (Jreeu & Co.

THIS little manual is intended for the
of students commencing a course of
laboratory practice, or preparing themselves
t -ir actual work in connection with electric
telegraphy. The author employs almost ex
clusively the nomenclature and system of
units approved by the committee of the
British Association, but he also gives exer
cises in the conversion of these units into
the units of various other systems, and
vice versa.

FIRST ANNUAL REPORT OF THE JOHNS HOP
KINS UNIVERSITY.

THIS Report contains the Statement of
the Trustees, the Report of the President
of the University, Daniel C. Gilman, a let
ter from P. R. Uhler on Collections in Ge
ology and Natural History, and a Prelimi
nary Announcement of courses of study,
fellowships, scholarships, etc.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

The Wages Question. By Francis A.
Walker. New York: Holt & Co. Pp.428.
Price, $3.50.

Geological and Geographical Survey.
Report of F. V. Hayden for the Year 1874.
Washington : Government Printing-Office.
Pp. 515.

Annual Record of Science and Industry
for 1875. By Spencer F. Baird. New York :
Harpers. Pp. 946. Price, $2.

Elements of Psychology. By H. N. Day.
New York: Putnams. Pp. 248. Trice,
$1.50.

Spirit Invocations. By P. A. Putnam.
Boston: Colby & Rich. Pp. 256. Price,
$1.25.

The Historical Jesus of Nazareth. P.y
M. Schlesingcr, Ph. I). New York : Som-

er .y. Pp. <x. Price, $1.

Masonry Dams. By J. B. Mi-Mas
ter, C. E. New York: Van Nostnm.l. Pp.
132. Price, 50 cents.

Geology of Portions of our Western
Territory. By G. K. Gilbert. Pp. 842.

The Geology of Route from St. George,
I t;ih, to Gila River, Arizona. By A. I;
vine. Pp. 30.

The Geology of Portions of our \\Y-t-
ern Territory. By E. E. llowi-11. Pp. 7".

Oxidation Product of Glycogen. P.y
II. II. Chittenden. New Haven: Tuttle &
Co., Printers. Pp. 10.

A Gigantic Bird. Pp. 5. Also, Verte
brate Fauna of the Eocene of New Mexico.
By E. D. Cope. Pp. 8.

The Public-School Question. Two Lect
ures. Boston : Free Religious Association.
Pp. 100. Price, 20 cents.

Inauguration of President Gilman. Bal
timore : John Murphy & Co. Pp. 64.

Valedictory Address of Medical Faculty.
By Dr. T. A. Atchison. Nashville Univer
sity. Pp. 15.

. International Medical Congress, 1875.
By Dr. G. W. Wells. New York. Pp. 12.

Proceedings of the Kings County Med
ical Society, Brooklyn. Pp. 40.

Natural History of Kerguelen Island.
By Dr. J. H. Kidder. Part II. Washing
ton : Government Printing-Oflice. Pp. 122.

Poughkeepsie Society of Natural Sci
ence. Pp. 41.

Report of the Overseers of the Poor of
Lowell. Pp. 49.

Bulletin of the Nuttall Ornithological
Club, Cainbri.lire, Mass.: H. B. Bailey, 13
Exchange Place, Boston. Pp. 28. Quar
terly, $1 per ye;ir.

Manual of the Apiary. Pp. 59. A
Injurious Insects of Michigan. Pp.48, lly
Prof. A. J. Cook, Michigan Agricultural
College.

Supposed Changes in the Nebula M17 =
h. 2008 = G. C. 4403. By E. S. HoMen.
Pp. 20. From American Journal

Eozoon Canadense at Cote St. Pierre.
P.y J. W. Dawson. Pp. 10. From Journal
of the Geological Society.

Fundamental Principles of Science. By
L. Hyneman. Boston: Colby & Rich. Pp.
29.

of the Bermudas. By G. Brown

MISCELLANY.

377

Goode. Washington: Government Print-
ing-Office. Pp. 82.

Tracts on Labor and Money Questions.
Nos. III. and VI. By William Brown.

MISCELLANY.

Destruction of tlie Buffalo. The aver
age annual destruction of buffaloes during
the last thirty or forty years is estimated
by a writer in the Penn Monthly at be
tween three and four millions. During the
season of 1872- 73 no less than two thou
sand hunters, it is said, were engaged in
hunting the buffalo along the line of the At-
chison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad alone.
By these men at least 250,000 buffaloes
were slain, simply for their hides, the car
casses being left untouched on the plains.
At this rate, the bison will have utterly dis
appeared before many years, unless Gov
ernment interferes to prevent this wasteful
slaughter. As yet, neither the central Gov
ernment nor any of the States have taken
any effectual measures to prevent the exter
mination of the noble animal. The author
of the article in the Penn Monthly sug
gests that the traffic in hides might easily
be checked and controlled by law. The
killing of buffaloes should be restricted, he
says, to certain seasons of the year, and the
destruction of the females and young wholly
prohibited. Further, he would have it made
a grave offense to kill a buffalo at any time
wantonly, or without properly utilizing it.
Then, certain portions of the public lands
now within the range of the buffalo might
be made a preserve, wherein no buffaloes
should on any condition be killed.

Distribution of the Roeky Mountain Lo
cust. Prof. Riley fixes the southern limit of
the Rocky Mountain locust s ravages at the
44th parallel of latitude and the eastern lim
it at the 103d meridian. The conditions
preventing the permanent settlement of this
insect in regions outside of the above limits
are considered by Prof. Riley in his eighth
annual report on the insects of Missouri.
The native home of this locust he takes to
be the higher treeless and uninhabitable
planes of the Rocky Mountains a sub-al
pine habitat with dry and attenuated atmos

phere. Now, a migration of insects accus
tomed to such conditions into a more dense
and humid atmosphere must prove fatal to
them. But another barrier to their perma
nent multiplication in the more fertile coun
try to the southeast is found in the greater
duration there of the summer season. As
with annual plants, so with insects (like this
locust) which produce but one generation
annually and whose active existence is
bounded by the spring and autumn frosts,
the duration of active life is proportioned to
the length of the growing season. " Hatch
ing late and developing quickly in its native
haunts, our Rocky Mountain locust, when
born within our borders (and the same will
apply in degree to all the country where it
is not autochthonous), is in the condition of
an annual northern plant sown in more
southern climes ; and just as this attains pre
cocious maturity and deteriorates for want
of autumn s ripening influences, so our lo
cust must deteriorate under such circum
stances. If those which acquired wings in
Missouri early last June had staid with us
long enough to lay eggs, even supposing
them capable of doing so, those eggs would
have inevitably hatched prematurely, and
the progeny must in consequence have per
ished."

Fight between a Mouse and a Scorpion.

Frank Buckland, having witnessed the
rare spectacle of a combat between a mouse
and a scorpion, gives in Land and Water the
following description of the fight : " The
mouse having been dropped into the jar con
taining the scorpion, the battle at once com
menced by the scorpion assuming the offen
sive. He made a lunge with his sting and
struck the mouse. This woke up the mouse,
who began to jump up and down like jack in
the box. When he became quiet, the scor
pion again attacked the enemy, with his
claws extended like the pictures of the scor
pion in The Signs of the Zodiac. He made
another shot at the mouse, but missed him.
I then called Time ! to give both com
batants a rest. When the mouse had got his
wind, I stirred up the scorpion once more,
and, as the fancy say, he came up smil
ing. The mouse during the interval had
evidently made up his mind that he would
have to fight, and not strike his colors to a

378

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

scorpion as he would to a cat. When, there-
lore, the scorpion came within range, the
mouse gave a squeak and bit him on the
k-u-lv ; the scorpion at the same moment
planted his sting well between the mouse s
ears on the top of his head. The scorpion
then tried to retreat, but could not, for one
claw had got entangled in the fur of
the mouse. The mouse and scorpion then
closed, and rolled over each other like two
cats fighting, the scorpion continually stab
bing the mouse with his sting, his tail going
with the velocity of a needle in a sewing-
machine. When the scorpion got tired, the
mouse got hold of his tail with his teeth and
gave it a sharp nip. The mouse seized the
opportunity, and immediately bit off two of
the scorpion s side-legs. He then retired,
and began to wash his face. I had expect
ed, of course, that the poison of the scorpion
would have killed the mouse, but he didn t
seem a bit the worse for it. When I exam
ined him the next morning he was quite
lively and well, and had nearly eaten up the
whole of the scorpion for his breakfast. Of
course I rewarded the mouse for his plucky
conduct by giving him some milk, and by
letting him go in a place where it was not
likely the cat would find him."

Labor at the South African Diamond-
Fields. The exploitation of the diamond-
fields of South Africa promises to exert a
mighty influence on the native populations
living north of Griqualand. No sooner had
the demand for labor arisen at the diggings
than vast numbers of the races known as
Mahawas, who live between the twenty-
third and twenty-fourth parallels of south
latitude, poured down from the country
bordering on the Limpopo, and eagerly took
service with the diggers. " They came in
large bodies," says Mr. J. B. Currey, secre
tary to the government of Griqualand West,
" often as many as two thousand in a month,
arriving in a wretched state of emaciation."
They wear no clothing save a cincture round
the loins. They stay about six months, and
then they are sleek, well-made, and often
powerful men. They arc very thrifty, and
generally have from eight to ten pounds in
money when the time for their departure
arrives. This they expend in purchasing
guns, powder, and lead, old military uni

forms, beads, brass wire, and perhaps a lit
tle food, and set out for their own country,
each man staggering under his bunlm.
From the Mahawas the tidings of work and
pay at the diamond-fields spread to other
tribes living farther north, and in the early
part of 1874 appeared groups of Makalakas
from the great plains in latitude 20, a race
said to be without chiefs or laws or organi
zation of any kind whatever. Still, degraded
as is their condition, they seem to possess
some remains of a more civilized state, and
to show signs of an intelligence superior to
that of the Mahawas. Parties of these peo
ple continued to arrive during 1874 and
1875, and in the middle of the latter year
came the first party of the Maschonas, large,
powerful, jet-black men, from latitude 18
on the southern bank of the Zambezi.

Remarking upon this curious movement
of the natives, Mr. Currey observes :

" And this great stream of native labor re
turns, after a few months, to the great ocean
from which it flowed, bearing with it, as is inev
itable, some traces of the strange lands tli rough
which it has passed, and some tinge of the things
with which it has come in contact. We cannot
prevent this, even if we would. For good or for
evil these natives have tasted of the tree of
knowledge, and know that they are naked. They
go back, with something to tell, and the strange
stories that must be repeated from hat to hut
and village to village, the distorted accounts
which must be spread of our religion and our
laws, our virtues and our vices, our manners and
customs, will produce results greater than any
that all the missionaries of Europe could effect in
a century. Events novel and rapid, which we
have had no power to control, have unexpected
ly placed us in immediate communication with
new tribes, and our connection with them en
tails results which no indifference can ignore,
and from which no timidity can escnp.-."

\atnral History of the American Ante
lope. From an interesting paper in the
American Naturalist, by Judge Caton, Mr
select the following notes upon the natural

history of the American ant. -lope: The ani
mal is not a native of the Old World, and
is confined to a very limited portion of the
New. In si/.e the prong-buck, or American
antelope, is considerably smaller than tho
Virginia deer, the adult male rarely exceed-
ing four feet in length from tip to tip, and
;. <-t in height to the top of the shoul
der. The hairs of this animal differ from
those of most of the hollow-horned ruminants,

MISCELLANY.

379

and possess the extreme characteristics of
those of the deer. They are hollow except
near the roots and extreme points, and are
filled with a sort of light pith, like that found
in the quill of the turkey. The hairs are non-
elastic and fragile, in this respect resem
bling more those of the caribou than of any
other quadruped. The entire absence of
the hind or accessory hoof distinguishes the
prong-buck from both the deer and the an
telope. A very important feature of the
prong-buck is its glandular system, from
which is emitted a rather pungent odor.

The eye of the prong-buck is exception
ally large much larger than that of the
deer, the ox, or the horse. The entire ex
posed part of the orb is intensely black, with
a mild and gentle expression. The animal is
the swiftest-footed of all known quadrupeds,
but it cannot continue the race at high
speed for a great length of time, although
for a few miles or a few minutes its career
seems like the flight of a bird. While it
can make astonishing horizontal leaps, even
from a standing position, it cannot or will
not make high vertical leaps. The author
thinks that it could not under any circum
stances be driven over an obstruction a yard
in height. The most interesting of all its char
acteristics is its horns. These appendages
are given to both male and female, but in
the latter they are scarcely more than rudi
mentary till they are fully adult, and even
then the horns are quite insignificant. In
both sexes the horn is hollow, like that of
the goat and the ox, and it is deciduous, like
the antlers of the deer. Altogether this is
a most interesting animal, occupying an in
termediate place between ruminants with
hollow and persistent horns, and those with
solid and persistent ones. In skin and coat
it is like the deer. Its eye is most like that
of some of the antelopes. Its glandular
system is most like that of the goat. In
salaciousness it even excels the goat.

Process for Condensing Beer. The pro
cess for condensing beer was recently ex
plained by Dr. Bartlett, in a paper read be
fore the London Society of Arts. Essen
tially it is the same as the process for con
densing milk ; the only difference between
the two consists in the provision made, in
beer-condensing, to save the alcohol. The

apparatus employed consists of a copper
vacuum-pan, with which is connected a
condensing-worm. Two copper globes are
attached for collecting the alcohol. A cer
tain quantity of beer being pumped into the
pan, a vacuum of twenty-five or twenty-six
inches pressure is maintained, and a tem
perature of 130-160 Fahr. during the first
stage of the process. In a short space of
time all of the alcohol flows into the lower
globe, the connection between which and
the upper is then closed. Thus the alcohol
is collected without breaking the vacuum.
This alcohol contains all the delicate fla
vors of the beer. The alcohol having been
removed, the removal of water goes on till
the beer is reduced to a semifluid state. In
this way thirty-six gallons of beer is concen
trated into a bulk of little over two gallons,
and besides there is a little over two gallons
of proof-alcohol.

When the condensed extract is taken
from the vacuum pan and cooled, the alcohol
is mixed with it. All the aromas and vola
tile matters that went over with the alco
hol are thus returned to the extract. Ev
ery valuable constituent of the original beer
is there present, minus only nine-tenths of
the water. When it is desired to remake
the beer, all that is required is to empty one
of the tin cans of condensed beer, and make
it up to the thirty-six gallons by the addi
tion of water. The product is " flat," but
carbonic-acid gas can be reproduced in it to
any extent that may be desired by the addi
tion of a little yeast or uncondensed beer.
The total expense of condensing beer does
not exceed the sum of fifty cents per barrel,
and that of remaking about twice that sum.

Damming of Streams by Drift-Ice. In the

American Journal of Science and Art for
March, Prof. J. D. Dana remarks upon cer
tain phenomena attending the spring over
flows of Connecticut rivers, and in these
finds reasons for believing that, during the
breaking up of the long glacial winter, the
gaps, gorges, or narrows, along the river-
courses, would have been liable to obstruc
tion by floating ice. Such obstruction, he
says, would have been of all grades, from
that which could simply impede the free
flow of the waters, to the nearly perfect
dam. In particular cases the obstructions

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

might have existed during a very long time,
instead of for a few weeks, as happens af
ter a modern winter. Again, the slackened
or suspended flow of the water, caused by
such ice-obstructions, would have favored
the deposition and accumulation about them
of drift, and some may have thus been con
verted into complete dams. This process
might occasionally have wholly filled with
earthy material a gorge or narrow valley
as in the Niagara River so as to block up
and divert the course of the stream.

In view of these probable conditions of
the river-valleys during the glacial flood, the
question arises whether the height of the
upper terraces above the narrows, on the
rivers of Connecticut, was not partly owing
to the existence of ice-obstructions. That
this was so seems highly probable ; and the
height of modern spring-floods in the Con
necticut at Middletown and Hartford is now
often due, in part, to this very cause. If
such obstructions existed in the Thames,
Connecticut, and Housatonic Valleys, they
were only partial obstructions, for in the
case of each the terrace of the valley below
the narrows declines quite gradually in Height
from the level above the narrows, instead
of abruptly. Moreover, the material of the
terraces below the narrows is like that
above. Further evidence of the existence
of such ice-barriers is to be looked for in a
distribution of gravel and large bowlders
across the valley just above the narrows,
where the ice-masses had been brought to a,
stop and piled up. Prof. Dana has as yet
observed no satisfactory evidence of this
kind, but thinks the question needs more
investigation.

Where the Army-Worm Moth lays its

Eggs. The mode of oviposition in Leucania
unipuncta (the army-worm moth) was, till
the other day, an unsolved problem in ento
mology. During the current year Prof. C.
V. Rlley, State Entomologist of Missouri,
undertook the methodical investigation of
this subject, and at the meeting of the St.
Louis Academy of Science, on May 1st, was
able to announce that his researches had
been entirely successful. Guided by the
structure of the ovipositor, Mr. Riley con
cluded that the moth would naturally secrete
the eggs where they could not be easily

seen. This conclusion was afterward veri-
fied by direct observation, the author having
witnessed the mode of oviposition on blue
grass. The eggs are, as he surmised, se
creted, being either glued in rows of from
five to twenty in the groove which is formed
by the folding of the terminal grass-blade,
or else between the sheath and the -stalk.
The eggs are white, slightly iridescent,
spherical, .02 inch in diameter. They are
fastened to each other and to the leaf, and
covered along the exposed portion by a
white, glistening, viscid substance. As they
mature the color becomes yellowish, and by
the seventh day the brown head of the em
bryo shows distinctly through the shell.
The larva emerges from the eighth to the
tenth day, is 1.7 millimetre in length, dull,
translucent white in color, with a large
black-brown head, and is a looper, the two
front pairs of abdominal prolegs being at-
rophied. On account of its extremely small
size and of the color resembling the pale
bases of the grass-stalks near the ground,
it is almost impossible to find them even
where they are numerous. The one great
economical result of these researches is the
indicating of an effectual mode of destroy
ing the army-worm viz., burning the eggs
with the stubble.

How the Mississippi wears away its Banks.

The observation is made by Reclus, in his
work "The Earth," that the Mississippi
River seems to contradict the law of dis
placement of running water, which in con
sequence of the motion of the earth on its
axis causes all streams which flow north or
south to hug the west side of their valleys.
But Mr. G. W. R. Bailey, in a paper pub
lished in the Journal of the American Socie
ty of Civil Engineers, shows that the anoma
ly is an apparent one only. " The river," he
writes, " does wear away its western shore
line more rapidly than the eastern, but it
cannot do otherwise than gradually excavate
circular bends, of from twenty to twenty-
five miles in circumference generally, and
then cut them off, leaving them to the west
ward. There has been, always, an excess
of overflow and of sedimentary deposits
west, and by far the largest number, as well
as the greatest bends when cut off, have
been left to the west. The western portion

MISCELLANY.

381

of the valley is everywhere well filled with
alluvion, and the swamps west have firm
bottoms throughout the valley. Below Ba
ton Rouge, where the river tends to the
southeast, the swamps on the east are bog
gy and not well filled with deposits, and the
large spaces covered by Lakes Maurepas
and Pontchartrain are left unfilled.

" If the Mississippi had been a river of
clear water (instead of being sedimentary),
traversing a valley not alluvial, it would
probably occupy the western side of its val
ley like other streams flowing toward the
equator ; but, as it is, it levees or embanks
itself to the eastward by an excess of de
posits west. It hugs the bluffs on the east
side, down to the last one at Baton Rouge,
for the reason that it could not be forced
any farther eastward ; but immediately be
low the last bluff, the excess of deposits west
crowded the river-channel eastward still
farther ; the general direction thence to the
present mouth being southeast. The mouth
of the river having now reached very deep
water in the Gulf of Mexico, and having ad
vanced a little beyond the filling up of the
gulf west, and beyond the southern limit of
the western highlands, the tendency is to
flow westward by the Southwest Pass, which
is now the largest channel, conveying about
one-third of the whole river to the sea."

Glacial Phenomena. Prof. A. R. Grote
recently delivered a lecture on "The Ice
Age " before the Catholic Institute of Buffalo.
He first called attention to the evidences of
glacial action in the limestone rock under
lying the surface deposit of sand, gravel,
and clay, in that region. Another evidence
of glacial action is the presence of erratic
blocks ; these too are found in the vicinity
of Buffalo. In Europe the largest of these
erratic blocks have been traced to their
original site. Near Zurich, in Switzerland,
there is a block estimated to weigh nearly
5,000 tons. Another block, of nearly equal
weight, may be seen at Neufchatel. By
comparing their grain, structure, and form,
it has been ascertained that they came from
the Alps, and indeed the very ledge of rock
of which they were once a part has been
determined. To reach their present loca
tion they must have traversed what are now
bodies of water, as the Lake of Geneva.

Such blocks, of all sizes, being held fast
in the ice at the bottom of the glacier, act
as chisels on the rock beneath, producing
scratches. And, as a river accumulates
piles of sticks and rubbish along its banks,
so does the glacier accumulate piles of
stones and clay, known as moraines. Me
dial moraines are found where two glacial
streams unite, just as a sand-bar marks the
junction of two rivers. These medial mo
raines are extensions of lateral moraines
which are found at the sides of the glacier.
Terminal moraines are found at its mouth.
Over the south-western portion of the State
of New York, bowlders have been found
which have come from the Lake Superior
region, some of them containing copper-ore.
Bowlders of transportation have also been
found on the summit of Mount Washington,
which is more than 6,200 feet high, showing
that the glacier must have at one time over
topped this summit. The direction of the
scratches shows that the general course of
the ice-mass was from north to south.
There was a glacier of the Connecticut, the
Hudson, and the Alleghany Valleys. The
ice occupied the place of the water-courses,
and underneath it streams flowed to the sea.

Lieutenant Cameron s Explorations.

Lieutenant Cameron has returned safely to
England from his memorable journey of ex
ploration in Central Africa. He explored
the head-waters of the Congo, an immense
river-system, one of the feeders of which is
the Lualaba, which drains Lake Tanganyika
into the Congo, and which Livingstone sup
posed to be a tributary of the Nile. The
Congo and its tributaries constitute one of
the grandest systems of internal water-com
munication in the world. As to the wealth
of the newly-explored country, Cameron de
scribes it as enormous. From its mineral
resources and agricultural capabilities it
seems destined to become one of the grana
ries of the world, a centre of civilization, and
the scene of iron manufactures when other
parts of the world have been exhausted.

Antiseptic Properties of Thymol. The

following notes of experiments made by L.
Lewin to determine the antiseptic and anti-
fermentative properties of thymol we trans
late from Gaea. This substance, thymol, ob-

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tained by distillation from oil of thyme,
occurs in white, highly-aromatic crystals ;
when dissolved in hot water in the propor
tion of one part per 1,000 it forms a fully-
saturated solution possessing a neutral re
action. More concentrated watery solu
tions cannot be obtained, for, when dis
solved in greater proportions than one in
1,000, the thymol evaporates. Lewin finds
that 0.1 per cent, of this solution is suffi
cient to prevent fermentation in sugary
liquids, no matter what the proportion of
sugar and yeast. Milk to which a small
quantity of the thymol solution was added
did not begin to show signs of coagulation
till twenty days later than milk with which
an equal quantity of water had been mixed.
Filtered white of egg in contact with the
air was found to grow putrid in three or
four days, whereas white of egg with which
thymol-water had been mixed gave not the
slightest indication of putridity after eleven
weeks. The same results were obtained in
treating pus with water and thymol : pus so
treated at once lost its putrid odor, and con
tinued to be odorless for five weeks, or until
it had become dry.

The English Commission on Vivisec
tion. The Royal Commission appointed in
England to inquire into the subject of ex
perimentation on living animals, for scien
tific purposes, have reported unanimously
against the absolute prohibition of this
practice. " Our conclusion is," says the
report, " that it is impossible altogether to
prevent the practice of making experiments
upon living animals for the attainment of
knowledge applicable to the mitigation of
human suffering or the prolongation of hu
man life ; that the attempt to do so could
only be followed by the evasion of the law,
or the flight of medical and physiological
students from the United Kingdom to for
eign schools and laboratories, and would,
therefore, certainly result in no change fa
vorable to the animals ; that absolute pre
vention, even if it were possible, would not
be reasonable ; that the greatest mitigations
of human suffering have been in part de
rived from such experiments ; that by the
use of anaesthetics in humane and skillful
hands the pain which would otherwise be
inflicted may, in the great majority of cases,
be altogether prevented, and in the remain

ing cases greatly mitigated ; that the inflic
tion of severe and protracted agony is in
any case to be avoided ; that the abuse of
the practice by inhuman or unskillful per
sons in short, the infliction upon animals
of any unnecessary pain is justly abhor-
rent to the moral sense of Englishmen gen
erally, not least so of the most distinguished
physiologists and the most eminent sur
geons and physicians ; and that the support
of these eminent persons, as well as of the
general public, may be confidently expected
for any reasonable measures intended to
prevent abuse."

Perception of Musical Tones. From the
researches of Prof. Preyer, of Jena, on the
" Limits of Perception of Musical Tones,"
it appears that the minimum limit for the
normal ear is from sixteen to twenty-four
vibrations per minute, and the maximum
forty-one thousand vibrations, though per
sons with average powers of hearing were
found to be absolutely deaf to tones of six
teen thousand, twelve thousand, or even
fewer vibrations. Silence, according to
Preyer, is a state of uniform minimum ex
citation of the auditory nerve-fibres. Si
lence is to the ear precisely what black is
to the eye. The pressure of the fluid con
tents of the labyrinth and the flow of blood
through the vessels must give rise to sen
sations of which we are unconscious only
because of their uniformity, their constan
cy, and their low degree of intensity. Si
lence, when the attention is concentrated
on the sense of hearing, is found to vary in
degree just as the blackness of the visual
field, when light is excluded from the eye,
has been observed to vary. Lastly, the
parallel between the auditbry sense and the
visual is borne out by a study of the ento-
tic (intra-aural) sensations, which are closely
analogous to well-known entoptical (or in-
tra-ocular) phenomena.

Dr. Mohr on the Source and Composition
of Meteorites. From an examination- of a
large number of meteorites, Dr. Mohr, in
Liebig s Annalen der Chemie, concludes
that these bodies must have been formed
upon a planet warmed by the sun, or by a
sun in absolute rest, and in the lapse of an
enormous length of time. Under what cir
cumstances this planet has been shivered

NOTES.

383

into fragments does not appear. It must
have had a large collection of waters, a
sea, which has likewise been dispersed,
and which now is to be found in meteoric
swarms, and in comets. The peculiarity
of meteorites, as compared with our globe,
consists, he says, in the circumstance that
we find in the former more products of
reduction, and, except the earths, no per
fect oxides. Thus, in meteorites we find
no ferric oxide, but metallic iron, sulphide
of iron, and phosphide of nickel-iron. Upon
our globe phosphorus occurs only as phos
phoric acid. Hence the hypothetical planet
where the meteorites originated must have
been smaller than our globe, and have had
a less dense atmosphere containing less free
oxygen. The specific gravity of most me
teorites agrees with the calculated density
of the planetoids between Mars and Jupiter.

A Sound-producing Spider. In the "Pro
ceedings " of the Bengal Asiatic Society is
given an account of a gigantic stridulating
spider, from Assam. The sound-producing
apparatus of this spider (a species oiMygale)
consists of a comb, composed of a number of
highly-elastic chitinous rods, situated on
the inner face of the so-called maxillae, and
of a scraper, formed of an irregular row of
sharp spines on the outer surface of the
antennal claws. This apparatus is equally
well developed in both sexes, as in most
coleopterous insects, and is not confined to
the males, as in the Orthoptera, Homoptera,
and the stridulating spiders ( Theridion), ob
served by Westring, in all of which the ex
clusive purpose of the sounds seems to be
to charm or call the opposite sex.

NOTES.

THE Royal Society of London has re
ceived from Mr. Phillips Jodrell 6,000 to
be applied, principal as well as interest, to
the encouragement of original research in
the physical sciences. Mr. JodrelPs object
in making this gift is to ascertain, by prac
tical experiment, to what extent the progress
of original research is retarded in England
by the want of public support, and in what
form an increased measure of support would
be most likely to promote its development.

CHLORINE was first employed industrially
by Robert Hall, at White s bleach-works,
near Nottingham. He procured from Ger
many a vial of chlorine-water, but the first

experiment was not successful. The solu
tion, being too strong, destroyed the fabric,
but by degrees the new agent became man
ageable. The use of lime by Tennant, of
Glasgow, in 1798, as an absorbent of chlorine,
seems to have over-shadowed these early
results.

IN the Tribune mention is made of a
paper recently read before the French Acad
emy of Inscriptions, upon the determination
of the age of the third pyramid at Ghizeh.
It appears that M. Chabas, an Egyptologist,
has succeeded in deciphering in the Ebers
papyrus a certain hieroglyph, which he finds
to represent the name of Menkeres, the
builder of that pyramid. An astronomical
note in the manuscript states that the helia
cal rising of Sothis (the star Sirius) occurred
in the ninth year of the reign of Menkeres.
The astronomer Biot now made calculations
to fix the time of this heliacal rising of
Sirius, and found that it must have taken
place between the years 3010 and 3007 B. c.

DR. W. B. RICHARDSON attributes the
high vitality of Jews, as shown in statistics,
to their strict observance of certain sani
tary laws respecting diet, cleanliness, and
abstinence from strong drink.

A TASMANIAN correspondent of Nature
relates an instance of extraordinary tenacity
of life exhibited by an eel. Seven years ago
an eel, which had been slightly injured, was
placed along with other eels in a tank from
which they were taken as required. This
tank was fitted with finely-perforated zinc
at each end, through which nothing but the
most minute organisms could pass ; other
wise it was perfectly tight. The injured eel
was left after the others had been taken out,
and so on again and again, when other lots
were put in and removed. " It is still in
the tank, perfectly transparent, and quite
white, and is to all appearance healthy and
lively enough."

DIED, March 2, 1876, in Washington, at
the early age of twenty-eight years, Archi
bald R. Marvine. In an obituary notice,
published in the American Journal of Sci
ence and Arts, it is stated that Mr. Marvine
graduated in 1870 from the Hooper Mining
School, Harvard University ; the same year
he accompanied the Santo Domingo Expedi
tion as assistant geologist ; in 1871 he served
as astronomer to the Wheeler Expedition, at
the same time doing work as a geologist ;
in 1873 he was appointed geologist of the
Hayden Survey Expedition. The hardships
and privations he endured in the wilderness
of Colorado undermined his health, and
since the early winter of 1874 75 he had
been incapacitated for field-work.

THE decrease in the number of small-pox
cases in the Punjab, since the introduction
of vaccination, is very striking. In 1869

3 8 4

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

there were 53,195 deaths; in 1871, 25,534;
in 1874, 12,026. That this decrease is due
to vaccination is shown from the fact that
in the northern districts, where vaccination
is in greater favor with the people than in
the southern, the rate of small-pox mortality
per 1,000 is 1.31, while in Umballa and six
other southern districts the rate is 2.05.

THE scientific results of the Polaris Ex
pedition are nearly ready for publication.
They will form four volumes, the first three
of which, edited by Dr. Emil Bessels, will
be devoted to hydrography, meteorology,
and astronomy. The fourth volume, of
which Admiral Davis has charge, will con
tain a narrative of the expedition and much
biographical information.

A NEW industry has been introduced in
France the breeding of ants for their eggs.
These eggs are sold to the breeders of
pheasants. As yet the business is in the
hands of its originator, a woman, and she
already appears to be on the high-road to
fortune.

FROM experiments made by Scolosuboff,
it appears that dogs can absorb with im
punity about sixteen times as much arsenic
(in proportion to their weight) as would
kill a human being.

THE cinchona-tree has been introduced
successfully into the island of Reunion.
The cinchona-seeds were first sowed near
the coast, and the young trees which grew
from them were subsequently conveyed to
an altitude of from 2,000 to 2,500 feet.
There they thrive so well that in four years
time some of them grew to the height of
twenty-one feet.

IN the annual report of Prof. Henry it
is stated that the Smithsonian Institution
fund now amounts to $717,000. It is con
templated to authorize a series of experi
ments to determine accurately the rate of
increase of the earth s temperature at pro
gressive depths. Another project embraces
new and careful experiments on the velocity
of light. The work of ascertaining the
weight of the earth by Cavendish s method
will also probably be undertaken anew.

IN the milk of cows affected by the foot
and mouth disease, there is a marked ten
dency of the fat-globules to aggregate. The
latter are also much larger than in healthy
milk, and in advanced stages of the disease
rise to the surface, not as cream, but as
pure butter-fat. The film enveloping the
particles of fat presents a glairy, mucus-like
appearance, and is intensely refractive. It
is only necessary to agitate a strongly-af
fected sample of the milk for a few minutes
in order to obtain from a pint of milk a
lump of butter weighing an ounce or move.

GERMAN manufacturers are purchasing
the fish-bones gathered along the Norwegian
coast at the great fish-curing stations. The
bones make a good fertilizer, and when pul
verized by suitable machinery at the point
of collection are readily transported. It is
estimated that the bone-product of the es
tablishments in Newfoundland amount to
20,000,000 pounds a year.

DR. R. ANGUS SMITH advocates the cult
ure of peat as a fuel. In the Grampian
Hills he finds a bog, the annual product of
which is ten tons of dry peat equal to four
tons of coal. By proper treatment it is
possible to grow the material much faster
than this. Indeed, the product of the bog
mentioned above is considered to be far be
low the average.

EXPLOSIONS of fire-damp in coal-mines
are found to occur most numerously in times
of low atmospheric pressure. When the
pressure is great, the carburetted hydrogen
is prevented from issuing from the w alls and
sides of the coal-seam ; but when the press
ure is suddenly lessened the gas escapes,
and accumulates until sometimes it reaches
the proportion sufficient with common air
to form an explosive mixture.

MR. HENRY S. DRINKER, of Philadelphia,
mining engineer, is preparing a work on
"American Tunnels and Tunneling," and
has sent out a circular in which he requests
that data concerning railroad tunnels, min
ing tunnels, headings, and drifts, be for
warded to him, so as to make the work as
complete as possible. Mr. Drinker s ad
dress is 1,906 Pine Street, Philadelphia.

APPLYING to the elephant Flourens s
mode of estimating the natural duration of
an animal s life, viz., multiplying by five the
number of years requisite to perfect its
growth and development, Sir J. Emerson
Tennent fixes the term of life for that great
pachyderm at (thirty by five) a hundred and
fifty years. Maturity is shown by the con
solidation of the bones of the animal with
the epiphyses, and in the elephant this con
solidation is complete at the age of about
thirty.

IN the seal-fishery an enormous amount
of wholesome meat is annually wasted. Only
the blubber and skins of the seals are brought
away. It is proposed to have the meat put
up in tin cans at Disco, and so shipped to
Europe for food.

A MOVEMENT is on foot to bring about a
uniformity of measures, instruments, and
methods of observation, among physicians
in all countries. It is proposed to ask the
next International Medical Congress to con
stitute national commissions for the purpose
of deciding upon the most practical means
of attaining this object.

JOHN STRONG NEWBERKY.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

AUGUST, 1876.

YOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 1

BY EMILE BLANCHARD,

OF THE PARIS ACADEMY OF SCIENCES.

MAN possesses language, and makes large use of it, while, on the
other hand, not even the most intelligent animals have the
power of designating objects, or of translating sensations into articu
late speech. In this respect the distinction between man and beast
is very marked. It has at all times been cited as an evidence of man s
exceptional place in Nature. The physiologist, however, discovers an
articulate voice in many animals. Some mammals give utterance to
vowels and consonants, but the result is only one syllable repeated
without variation. Birds, better gifted than the mammals, can sing,
and also possess a brief vocabulary : the goldfinch pronounces several
words, which it repeats again and again in moments of pleasure. It
has a word to express its ill-humor, as also a word for calling atten
tion. In all this we see faint traces of language, notable witnesses of
the unity of a phenomenon the gradations of which are wanting.

Some animals live in society, others travel in flocks. In such ag
gregations there is plainly developed a sort of language adapted for
establishing concert of action among the individuals. In building
their lodges, how could beavers make a regular division of labor, and
so perfectly coordinate their work, if they were unable to understand
one another ? The marmot, acting as a sentinel, could not warn its
fellows of the approach of danger, if it did not possess the power of
giving a signal, the meaning of which they understood. When swal
lows are about to migrate, some of them appear to be concerned
about the performance of the periodical voyage some time before the
rest : they flock together and utter their call ; they flit hither and

1 Translated from the French by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.
VOL. ix. 25

386 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

thither to summon individuals who, in their folly, take no note of the
change of temperature. Is it not plain that these birds know how to
say, " It is time to be gone ? "

But in all probability the language of animals gives expression
only to very simple impressions and ideas. But, inasmuch as we do
not understand it, we cannot define either its extent or its true char
acter. Some persons have the power of imitating the calls and songs
of birds ; and birds, in turn, repeat human language, without, how
ever, understanding its sense ; it is only very rarely that we can
recognize in the phrase uttered by the inhabitant of a cage the ex
pression of a desire. Man and dog, close friends though they are,
understand one another only by means of a sort of pantomime.
Eventually the dog understands some of the words spoken by his
master, and the man understands some of the vocal expressions of his
trusty friend ; and this is the highest result of long association. It
appears as though, by a supreme will, an insurmountable obstacle had
been opposed to all close communication between man and animals.

Apparently those animals whose organization comes nearest to
that of man lack both the faculty of producing an ensemble of articu
late sounds and the degree of intelligence requisite for attaching to
words a strictly determinate meaning. No monkey has ever learned
to talk. In our own day the comparative study of specialties of or
ganization and of the life-conditions of living beings has thrown light
upon the subject of articulate speech. We may confidently affirm that
a creature possessing an instrument or an organ subject to the control
of its will comes into the world possessed of an instinct to employ
that organ or instrument ; guided by intelligence, it will make more
or less happy use of it. As individuals differ from one another in the
perfection of their vocal organs, so too they differ in the measure of
their control of those organs. Natural gifts and judicious exercise
afford immense advantages. All men possess a vocal apparatus : for
talking or for singing they usually employ it skillfully enough to an
swer all common demands ; while a privileged few produce wonderful
effects with the same instrumentalities.

The mechanism of voice deserves to be studied by all. As regards
man, we now have very accurate knowledge of the manner in which
speech and singing are produced. Means having been found of view
ing the play of the different parts of the larynx, physicians intent
upon the advancement of the art of healing, physiologists spurred on
by the desire of explaining phenomena, singers eager to penetrate the
secret of the highest achievements in their art, have all devoted them
selves to patient researches. The results of a multitude of investiga
tions have been published, and in this way science has been greatly
extended. Dr. Mandl, an observer who had already studied in its
minutest details the structure of the respiratory organs, has given the
fullest account yet presented of the vocal apparatus in all the phases

VOICE IN. MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 387

of its activity. 1 At present he is engaged in studying the phenomena
of voice in the larger animals. As for birds, it is to be hoped thnt
soon we shall understand the organic peculiarities in virtue of which
they are able to talk or to sing. Doubtless before long we shall dis
cover the relations subsisting between life-conditions, physical powers,
and psychological faculties.

In all those communities which have attained a high degree of in
tellectual culture, the explanation of natural phenomena has ever more
or less engaged the attention of the best minds. Among the ancients
we observe a manful effort to discover the secret of the human organ
ization. The origin of speech and of song was unquestionably a sub
ject of profound inquiry for them. Galen, the last and the most famous
of the ancient physicians, wrote a description of the larynx, and this
description is the work of a master who recognizes the high impor
tance of the work he is engaged in. Since the time of the Renaissance
anatomists have been studying the minutest details, and physiologists
experimenting. Thus everything was ready for new discoveries, so
soon as it should be possible to place before the eye the performance
of the instrument used by the singer. It would be difficult, without
some knowledge of the vocal apparatus, to understand how the sounds
are produced, antf hence we will briefly describe those portions of the
respiratory organs in which the voice is formed.

The trachea, which is the passage for air between the mouth and
the lungs, ascends from the chest to the middle region of the neck;
it is made up of cartilaginous rings. At its lower extremity it branches
out into two tubes, which are divided and subdivided into numerous
ramifications : these are the bronchi, which terminate in the lung-cells.
At the upper extremity of the trachea is the larynx, appearing like
an angular box, and crowning the trachea like the capital on a column.
Cartilages connected by ligaments give considerable strength to the
walls of the larynx. Internally these walls have a lining of mucous
membrane, which forms folds known as the vocal cords, or better,
lips. Under the action of special muscles these folds separate from
one another, are elongated or shortened, or become tense, and hence
the differences of sound. The cartilages are four in number : two on
the anterior surface of the box and two on the sides. In advanced
age these cartilaginous plates ossify ; the suppleness of the larynx is
then greatly diminished, and the voice loses the power of modulation
which it possessed in the period of youth. One of the cartilages,
which has the form of a ring, is much higher behind than in front.
This ring, being firmly fixed upon the first ring of the trachea, serves
to support the various parts which constitute the larynx. The largest
of these parts shields, as it were, the front of the vocal apparatus : it
consists of a plate of cartilage bent into a Y-shape, with the point of

1 " Traitc du Larynx et du Pharynx," 1872 ; " Hygiene dc la Voix parlee et chantee,"
1876.

388 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the V turned forward. In women it is less prominent than in men,
and it is known as Adam s apple. The lateral cartilages, which spring
from the ring-cartilage at the back of the larynx, assume the form of
little triangular pyramids with uneven surface. They are slightly
curved toward the upper extremity, and support a little horny plate,
which in the eyes of the ancient anatomists resembled the snout of a
pitcher. 1 The lateral cartilages, being very mobile, play an important
part in the emission of the voice.

The larynx is to some extent movable. Being attached to the
hyoid or tongue bone by means of a membrane strengthened by liga
ments, it is lifted up by the action of muscles extending from the
tongue-bone to the external surface of the thyroid cartilage ; it is
pulled down by the action of muscles which extend from this same
cartilage to the sternum. Further, the vocal apparatus is affected by
the movements of the pharynx and of the tongue, as also by the
respiratory movements. The solid parts of the larynx, being more or
less movable, change position under the action of muscles which pass
from one to another of them. Bundles of muscular fibre which spring
from the annular cartilage (the cricoid) cause the thyroid cartilage
to move up and down, and this movement produces tension of the
vocal cords. Muscles springing from the cricoid and from the thy
roid produce a rotation of the lateral cartilages, and modify the con
ditions of the cords. Finally, there are bundles of muscular fibre
extending from one lateral cartilage to the other; when these con
tract, the walls of the larynx are brought nearer to each other, and
the opening through which the air passes is made narrower.

Internally, the larynx is lined with mucous membrane, which is
continuous with the mucous membrane of the mouth. Two pairs of
ligaments, extending from the thyroid to the arytenoid, divide the
cavity into compartments. The lower portion is limited by an arch
formed of thick folds .of mucous membrane. The middle portion is
distinguished by the presence of folds supported by ligaments. These
are the vocal cords, which play the principal part in the act of pho-
nation. Tlie superior cords, which resemble thin bands, occupy both
sides. The inferior cords, or true vocal cords, which are very thick,
are situated beneath the upper, and extend considerably beyond
them toward the median line. 2 They bound the orifice called the
glottis. This orifice, which in the state of repose is triangular in
shape, varies constantly in form and in dimensions under the influence
of respiration and the emission of the voice. This use of the term glot
tis, which signifies tongue, to designate an orifice, is very curious, and is

1 The ring-cartilage is the cricoid cartilage of the anatomists ; the V-shaped cartilage
is the thyroid ; the lateral cartilages are the right and left arytenoids ; and the little plate
they bear, the cartilages of Santorini.

8 On each side, between the superior and inferior vocal cords, occurs a large cavity.
These cavities are known as Horgagni s ventricles.

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 389

the result of a strange confusion of ideas. The ancients observed in
the larynx "organs resembling the mouth-pieces of ancient flutes, viz.,
the parts on the right and left, which meet and regulate the passage
of the air." Later, the term denoting the folds which bound the ori
fice was used to designate the orifice itself. This error has been con
firmed by the usage of centuries, but yet it is better to give, as Mandl
does, to the space between the vocal lips, the name of glottic orifice,
or orifice of the glottis. The superior portion of the larynx is the ves
tibule communicating directly with the back part of the mouth.
Above the entrance to the vestibule and back of the tongue, a tibro-
cartilaginous plate, the epiglottis, defends the passage. Under ordi
nary circumstances, the epiglottis stands vertical, presenting no ob
stacle to the free passage of air in both directions. When depressed,
it covers the opening. Every one, from personal experience, is famil
iar with the painful sensation produced by the entrance of liquids or
solids into the respiratory passages. Apparently the epiglottis closes
up this passage during the act of swallowing, but on this point we have
no certainty; we cannot observe the act of deglutition, and we know
that the vocal cords may be moistened by liquids without causing
inconvenience.

Like every other organ, the larynx presents considerable indi
vidual differences. A good development of the larynx indicates a
strong, deep voice. In childhood this apparatus undergoes very
little change, but at the period of adolescence it grows very rapidly,
the effect being an alteration of the voice, very notable in boys, but
inconsiderable in girls. In all cases, without regard to stature, the
larynx is smaller in women than in men. Its angles are less salient,
its muscles weaker, its cartilages thinner, and more supple : the sharp
notes of the instrument are the evidences of these peculiarities of con
formation. Though our general knowledge of the vocal organs is very
positive, nevertheless we are unable to determine the characters of the
voice by simply examining the larynx, for it is impossible to compare
in all their details those instruments whose good or bad qualities are
known.

The vocal apparatus is perfected by the addition of the cavities which
produce resonance, viz., the pharynx, the mouth, and the nasal fossae.
The pharyngeal cavity, into which open the oesophagus and the larynx,
is continuous with the buccal cavity, a hollow box admirably adapted
for articulation. Its shape and size are extremely variable. The
cheeks constitute walls which can be compressed or dilated with the
slightest effort ; the lips, which bound the anterior opening, are per
fectly mobile ; the tongue can be moved in every direction ; in the
rear, the velum palati, or soft palate, suspended from the palatal arch,
is supple and contractile. This veil of the palate is simply a fold of
mucous membrane, separating the buccal from the pharyngeal cavi
ty ; it also extends to the nasal fossae, which it closes ; it terminates

390 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in an appendage called the uvula. When the velum palati, or soft
palate, does not discharge its functions properly, the voice assumes a
specially disagreeable character it becomes nasal. The two rows of
teeth act a part in producing speech ; a breach once made in this
rampart, the pronunciation becomes defective, the air escapes through
the unguarded space, and the result is a hissing sound.

The plan of action of the whole vocal apparatus being under inves
tigation, in the absence of the means of direct observation, recourse
lias been had to endless stratagems, in order to have a glimpse of the
play of the organs and to explain the mechanism of voice-production.
It has been a struggle with incredible difficulties, in which the hujnan
mind, though it has not won a complete victory, has nevertheless ac
quitted itself with honor. Some of the investigators succeeded in
forming theories which are not very far from the truth, but these
theories are now only the monuments of a period whose science is
antiquated.

Galen, in comparing the organ of voice to a flute with double
mouth-piece, referred the production of the sound to the vocal cords.
Fabrizio d Acquapendente, the famous professor of the University of
Padua, held that the dilatation and contraction of the glottic ori
fice determined whether sounds shall be grave or acute. Dodart. a
member of the old Academie des Sciences, held that the tone depends
upon the greater or less number of vibrations of the vocal cords.
Ferrein, one of the famous anatomists of the eighteenth century, con
ceived the idea of causing the larynx of a dead body to produce
sounds by blowing through the trachea. He affirms that the lips of
the glottis vibrate and emit sound like the strings of a violin. Ma-
gendie made experiments upon living animals ; having laid bare the
glottis, he saw the vocal cords vibrating when the animal uttered a
cry. Savart, famed for his researches in acoustics, compared man s
vocal apparatus to an organ-pipe. Lehfeld, a German author, laid
stress upon the special effects of the cords, as vibrating through their
entire substance, or only at their free edges. Cagniard de Latour
constructed artificial larynges with mouth-pieces of membrane. John
Muller, the physiologist, after a series of diversified researches, was
of the opinion that " the vocal organ is a mouth-piece consisting of
two lips, and that the vibrations of these is the chief cause of the
sound the pitch being determined by the width and length of the
orifice of the glottis." Longet, who made numerous experiments on
the actions of the muscles of the vocal organ, threw new light upon
the conditions modifying the vibrations. In short, the result of all
these researches, made by investigators who never had seen the larynx
of a living man, was firmly to establish one point, namely, that the
voice is formed in the glottis. The proofs of this are conclusive, for,
if an opening be made in the trachea, the voice ceases ; it reappears
when we close the opening again ; it persists though the superior parts

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 391

of the larynx be rent and torn ; but it is destroyed by lesion of the
nerves of the little muscles which alter the form of the glottis and
stretch the vocal cords.

But alongside of these undisputed facts there were a number of
undecided questions which stimulated to further research. Some in
vestigators were continually meditating on methods of viewing the
larynx in normal action. Toward the close of the last century mir
rors were first employed for this purpose, but the earliest attempts
were unsuccessful. For fifty years all efforts of this kind proved abor
tive, and the thought of examining the interior of a living larynx was
coming to be regarded as an illusion. Suddenly, as by an inspiration,
the solution of the problem occurred to the mind of Manuel Garcia.
Ignorant of the labors of others who had endea-vored to obtain a view
of the vocal apparatus, Garcia conceived the idea of observing his ow r n
vocal organs in the act of singing. Taking a small mirror attached to
the end of a long rod, he placed it beneath the uvula, and then, illumi
nating with a beam of sunlight another mirror which he held in his
hand, he had a full view of his own larynx. Thus was discovered the
true method of investigation. In 1855 Garcia communicated to the
London Royal Society the result of his observations on the living
larynx. 1

When a new mode of research is discovered, the first investigators
to take hold of it are those who have little or no prepossessions of their
own. They perceive that, by varying the application of the process,
notable results may be attained without much labor or ability. Gar-
cia s process called forth on many sides much enthusiastic zeal. This
was the case especially at Vienna, but the results fell short of the
anticipations. The caprices of the sun s light and the defects of arti
ficial light were such as to discourage the observers. In order to
succeed, the means of illumination had to be improved at any cost.
Garcia had used for a reflector a plane mirror ; J. Czermak, Professor
of Physiology at Pesth, finding his pattern in the instrument used for
inspecting the eye, the ophthalmoscope, employed a concave mirror,
which concentrates the light. The feasibility of studying man s vocal
apparatus by means of the laryngoscope was now insured. Still, for
a long time afterward, experimenters busied themselves with devising
contrivances for increasing the intensity of the light by combinations
of glass lenses. 3

Czermak, who by long practice had acquired great skill in the
manipulation of his own larynx, visited the principal cities of Ger
many, taking with him a good instrument. His demonstrations were-

1 " Observations on the -Human Voice," " Proceedings of the Royal Society of Lon
don," vol. vii.

1 The different kinds of instruments are described in Mandl s work, " Traite" du
Larynx ;" also, in the article, " Laryngoscope," by Dr. Krishaber, in " Dictionnaire En-
cyclop6dique des Sciences Medicales."

392 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

witnessed with profound interest by physicians and physiologists. In
1 860 he came to Paris, and astonished many of the members of our
learned societies. He exhibited not only the whole of his own larynx,
but also the interior of his trachea down to the bifurcation a sight
well calculated to cause astonishment when one sees it for the first
time. The vocal organ cannot be examined with the same facility in
all persons, and some practice is needed for experimenting successfully.
Dr. Mandl and Dr. Krishaber possess an extraordinary power of con
trolling the various movements of the larynx. After repeated experi
ments we now fully understand the functions of the vocal organs in
speaking and in singing. The studies of Helmholtz upon the forma
tion of sounds have thrown new light upon the phenomena of voice.

The notes of an organ, when heard beneath the arched roof of a
cathedral, produce a profound impression. Inasmuch as no other kind
of music so closely resembles the human voice, we can fancy ourselves
communing with the thoughts and feelings of the human soul. We
naturally compare the organ to man s vocal apparatus. The organ
has a bellows, we have lungs ; in the organ is a " sound-board," the
trachea performs the same function ; the vibrating tongue of the or
gan has its counterpart in our vocal cords ; and the pharynx and the
mouth answer to the resonating cavities of the organ. Yet the natu
ral instrument is immensely superior to the artificial one. In the or
gan there must be a number of pipes to produce the different sounds ;
in the natural instrument there is only one pipe for both speech and
song, but it is a wonderful pipe, being susceptible of endless modifica
tions. It has a double vibrating spring and a resonator. The glottis
is the vibrating spring or tongue, and, according as the air-passage is
more or less narrowed, and the vocal cords more or less tense and
vibrant, the sounds emitted are either grave or sharp. The mouth
forms the resonator ; the cavity of the mouth is susceptible of almost
endless modifications, producing an infinite diversity of sounds.

Our various senses are each affected by a special order of impres
sions ; the organ of hearing takes note of sounds, which are propa
gated by concussions of the air, by vibrations. When these vibra
tions are continuous, regular, isochronous, they constitute a musical
sound ; when irregular, the result is noise. Sounds possess very defi
nite characters, as intensity, pitch, timbre. Intensity depends upon
the amplitude of the vibrations, which travel in the form of concen
tric spheres from the starting-point, as the waves caused by a peb
ble dropped into water are diffused in the form of concentric circles.
Amplitude is always the result of the force of the primary shock.
The pitch of a sound is determined by the number of vibrations
occurring in the space of one second : when the vibrations are few,
the sound is grave; when very numerous, it is sharp. In a word,
the shorter the duration of each vibration, the higher the pitch of
the sound. Timbre means quality of voice. We distinguish voices

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 393

by their timbre ; we hear some one speaking, and recognize who it
is without seeing him ; or we hear a strain of music, with several
sounds of the same pitch, but we readily by the timbre distinguish
from one another the violin, the flute, the clarionet. The differences
are the result of the different forms of the vibrations ; this may be
demonstrated by experiment. Whether we consider the movements
of a pendulum or of a tuning-fork, in every case the vibration, when
traced automatically, gives a characteristic line for each variety of
timbre. If by means of the ear, rendered highly sensitive by long
practice, we study to distinguish the different forms of the waves, we
recognize in addition to the fundamental sound other higher sounds,
the harmonics. Helmholtz s resonators aid the analysis by the ear.
The resonator is a little hollow sphere with two open tubes, one of
them conical, so as to fit into the auditory passage. The fundament
al sound, which is much deeper than the other sounds, is thus con
siderably reenforced. In like manner, with the aid of proper resona
tors, it is easy to hear the harmonics of the human voice. Helm-
holtz ascribes the diversity of timbres to the intensity of the har
monics. Physiologists hold that there exist other causes, as yet not
ascertainable.

In the state of rest, when respiration is performed without effort
and with regularity, the vocal cords are almost motionless ; during
the alternations of inspiration and expiration, the orifice of the glot
tis does not alter its form. After a cry has been uttered, there occurs
a deep inspiration, and then the vocal cords diverge, widening the
aperture. When expiration is suspended or performed slowly, the
orifice closes more or less. At the moment of emitting a sound, the
lateral cartilages of the larynx are brought near to one another, and
the vocal cords are suddenly made tense and applied closely to each
other in their anterior portion, or even throughout their entire
length; the passage of air is thus intercepted. Instantly the orifice
opens again, and the air in passing between the vibrating vocal
cords is itself thrown into vibrations, and sound is the result. These
operations are performed gently or forcibly according to circum
stances. Here we have the " glottic sound," as it is called by Mandl ;
isolated, it is inaudible, but it reaches our ear only after it has
traversed the pharynx and the mouth ; the vibrations of the air modi
fy it. Every one has remarked the change produced in sounds by
their passing through a tube or the like ; for instance, when we hear
a voice coming from the bottom of a well. Hence the voice is formed
by the combination of the sounds of the glottis and of the cavities
lying above the larynx : when these cavities are passive, the voice
is inarticulate; when they undergo certain changes of form, the voice
becomes articulate.

The pharynx and the mouth, which serve as a resonating box, pro
duce sounds whenever the air they contain is made to vibrate by the

394 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

current from the lungs or from any other source. That this is the
case is shown by certain decisive and very interesting experiments.
On opening the mouth and adjusting the lips for the pronunciation
of a given vowel (though without uttering the slightest sound), the
vowel may be rendered sonorous by placing in front of the mouth a
vibrating tuning-fork. This method was first applied by Helmholtz.
The same result may be obtained by bringing in front of the open
mouth, through a tube with narrow terminal orifice, a current of
air from a pair of bellows. This plan originated with M. Konig.
Thus it is seen that the various sounds known as vowels depend
simply on the form of the resonating cavities, the pharynx and
the mouth. 1 When these cavities alone are in action, the voice is
aphonic, whispering ; it is sonorous when the vocal cords vibrate.
For a long time it was held by physiologists that vowels pronounced
even in* a whisper come from the glottis ; precise information concern
ing these phenomena is of very recent date.

The number of vowels is generally restricted to five, six, or seven ;
these may be regarded as natural types, being found in nearly all
languages. But, in addition to them, there are intermediate vowels,
and a multitude of vowel combinations, so great is the power of
modification possessed by the buccal cavity. Then there are nasal
intonations (very abundant in the French language) produced by de
pressing the velum palati. A language might consist only of vowels,
says Max Miiller, and indeed this is very nearly the case with some
of the Polynesian dialects.

Most languages possess aspirates of more or less harshness. In
French they are very few and weak, but in German they are frequent
and strong, while in Arabic they are specially forcible. Aspiration
requires the action of the glottis ; the orifice is reduced for an instant,
and the air, arrested by this obstacle, in issuing through the narrow
slit, produces a sound of something brushing against the vocal cords.
The aspirate is sometimes sonorous in the Semitic languages. 3 The
guttural sounds of the Arabs used to be the subject of grave discus
sions among linguists, but Czermak put an end to these controver
sies. That learned physiologist, having fallen in with an Arab,
availed himself of the opportunity to examine with the laryngoscope
an organ capable of producing a sonorous aspirate. The whole
matter was now plain: it was found that, while the epiglottis was
depressed, the vocal cords were in close contact; the orifice being
thus absolutely closed, the current of air driven against the roof
produces a vibration beneath the glottis, in the fissure of the larynx.

The sounds produced in the buccal cavity are broken up on meet-

1 When we pronounce the vowels a, e, i (pronounced ah, eh, ee), the vertical diame
ter of the pharyngo-buccal cavity is diminished, while its transverse diameter is increased ;
it is exactly the contrary with the vowels o, ow, and u (pronounced oh, oo, u).

9 It is the din of the Arabic.

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 395

ing obstacles ; thus are formed the sounds known as consonants. In
setting up these obstacles, the tongue, the teeth, the lips, the soft
palate, play respectively a more or less important part. We readily
distinguish the labials, the linguals, the dentals, the nasals. No
classification, however, will stand a rigid analysis ; the simultaneous
play of the teeth, tongue, lips, and soft palate, and the somewhat
doubtful character of some sounds, render all classifications more or
less arbitrary.

Among the consonants are the sounds of puffing, hissing, trilling^
and these are pronounced without the aid of vowels. 1 The labials
are formed mainly by the movement of the lips the easiest move
ment of all those concerned in the utterance of speech. Accordingly
as the lips are closed tightly or loosely, two distinct letters are
pronounced ; if the closure is imperfect, a third letter is produced. 2
There are two letters, m and n, which it is impossible to pronounce
with the soft palate depressed, so as to close the nasal passages.
Czermak introduced water into his nostrils, and then tried to pro
nounce these two consonants ; the water was forced out by the passage
of the air. The sound of the dentals is produced by a strong pressure
of the tongue usually against the teeth, which, however, are not indis
pensable. The gutturals are pronounced by bringing the tongue
back against the palate.

All these consonants may be classed, according to the character
of the sound, as either surds or explosives. When the external air re
mains in communication with the air expired, notwithstanding the
obstacle set up for articulation, the consonant may be sustained
during the continuance of the expiration. 8 Where there is no com
munication, the duration of the sound is restricted to the instant in
which the obstacle is removed, and the result is a slight explosion of
the air. 4 This is shown conclusively when we precede a consonant
with a vowel, and the same experiment serves clearly to show the dis
tinction between hard and soft explosives. 5 In pronouncing the former
the glottic orifice is narrow, the current of air is feeble, and the sound
persists for a moment after the mouth has opened; in the other case,
the glottis allows the passage of a stronger current of air, and the
sound has no perceptible duration.

Certain consonants are in English called trills ; 6 they are produced
by the interruption of the breath at regular intervals, by vibrations
of the soft palate and the extremity of the tongue. In the soft trill,
the edges of the tongue produce simple oscillations of the air, but in
the harsh trill, the vibrations produced at once by the palate and the
tip of the tongue become intense. Finally, there are certain sounds
of frequent occurrence in English, German, and the Slavonic lan
guages ; these are produced by an expiration differing from one

1 /, s, r. 2 b, p, v. *, zh, v, s. 4 b, p, d, t, g (hard), k, x.

6 6, c?, gh, as contrasted with p } t, k. 6 1 and r.

396 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

another according to the obstacles opposed by the tongue, the teeth,
and the lips. 1

It has been demonstrated that the sounds of speech are formed in
the buccal cavity, by processes which vary within very narrow limits.
Authors who have studied in their own persons the pronunciation of
the vowels and consonants describe with great minuteness the posi
tions assumed by the lips, the tongue, the soft palate, under all circum
stances, and give drawings which show the various operations we
perform while articulating letters and syllables. 2 These observations
possess great interest ; but yet the rules thence derived are not so rig
orously true as to be indisputable. As Mandl observes, sounds that
are nearly identical are produced with different positions of the organs
of speech. If a person has lost all his teeth, he modifies the play of
the lips and tongue, and so contrives to speak intelligibly. The voices
of persons we know can be imitated so that the deception shall be
perfect. By changing the timbre, the voice is made to sound as
though it came from a cavern ; this is the ventriloquist s art. Persons
who had had the misfortune to lose a considerable portion of their
tongue, have been able to converse, though it is not affirmed that
hearing them speak would be a pleasure. Some birds find it possible
to utter sounds which with us require the use of the lips. In a word,
there is nothing absolute in the acts which produce speech, though in
general the same organs do not differ very much in their mode of pro
curing the same results, as may be shown from the fact that congeni
tal deaf-mutes who have learned to speak interpret the movements of
the mouth with infallible certainty ; they see the speech of the inter
locutor. This proves that our modes of articulation present only
shades of difference.

The phenomenon of deaf-mutes capable of speech has long been
esteemed a marvel. In the middle ages there was one instance of
this, the credit of which is due to the patience and skill of Beverley,
Archbishop of York. In the sixteenth century, the universal scholar,
Jerome Cardan, discussed the possibility of teaching the use of the
voice to congenital mutes. About the same period, the Spanish
monk Pedro de Ponce was, according to an epitaph, famous through
out the whole world for his power of causing mutes to speak. He
had for his pupils two brothers and one sister of Pedro de Velasco,
and the son of Gaspar de Guerra, Governor of Aragon. Some time
later, Juan Pablo Bonet, in a work which is the oldest known upon
this subject, treated of the art of giving speech to the dumb. 8 In

1 sh and th in English ; sch in German ; tch in Russian.

2 See Ernst Briicke, " Grundziige der Physiologie und Systematik der Sprachlaute
fur Linguisten und Taubstummenlehrer," Vienna, 1855; Max Miiller, "Lectures on the
Science of Language ; " Johann Czermak, " Populare physiologische Vortrage," Vienna,
1869, etc.

3 "Abecedario demonstrative : Reduccion de las letras y arte para ensenar a hablar
los Mudos," 1620.

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 397

England, Holland, and Germany, this art was reduced to practice
with more or less favorable results ; instances of success were few
and far between. About the year 1732, a young Israelite, who had
come to France from Estremadura, being touched by the unhappy lot
of a woman whom he loved, resolved to devote himself to the instruc
tion of deaf-mutes. His name was Jacob Rodrigues Pereira. At La
Rochelle, a boy thirteen years of age was brought to him ; soon the
lad was able to speak, so as to astonish all. The result was noised
through the city ; one of the grands fermiers had a deaf-mute son,
whom Pereira undertook to instruct. After sixteen months of study,
he presented his pupil to the Academic des Sciences. The assembly
was delighted. Several of the members undertook to examine the
case thoroughly, and on July 9, 1749, Buffon reported that the lad
had answered questions " both in writing and by word of mouth."
At the court of Louis XV. this marvel excited general admiration.
The Duke de Chaulnes had a godson that was deaf, a boy of about
twelve years ; him he placed under the care of Pereira. This pupil,
Saboureux de Fontenay, who in after-times attained to some celebrity,
was very intelligent, and quickly improved under instruction. On
being exhibited at the Academic des Sciences, and there tested in va
rious exercises, he occasioned no little surprise. The official report
concludes by stating that " M. Pereira possesses a singular gift of
teaching congenital mutes to speak and read."

Pensioned by the king, and honored with marks of esteem by
illustrious personages, Pereira continued his labors. He gave the
power of speech to a large number of mutes, but he kept his method
of education secret. The memory of this brilliant success had been
wellnigh effaced, when the Abbe de 1 lSpee won the favor of all classes
of society by giving to the deaf a sign-language. Pereira left behind
him pupils who justly believed that they did honor to their master by
making public the secret of their instruction ; some of these scattered
notes have been collected. It has required only a little research to
discover the forgotten method. 1 The teaching of deaf-mutes to
speak was again brought into practice, and at Geneva M. Magnat
was very successful in carrying out this system. He visited Paris,
accompanied by some of his pupils, who, though utterly deaf, con
versed with wonderful ease. Some grandsons and great-grandsons
of Jacob Rodrigues Pereira, on witnessing the renewal of the wonders
performed by their ancestor, founded at Paris an institution for edu
cating mutes. In this establishment, children of various ages, about
thirty in number, afford matter for curious observations upon the
phenomenon of voice and the articulation of language. 3

1 See an interesting sketch by M. Felix Hement, entitled " Jacob Rodrigues Pereire,
premier instituteur des sourds-muets en France," 1875.

8 The institution founded by the Messrs. Pereire, at 94 Avenue Villars, Paris, is
directed by M. Magnat, author of the "Cours d articulation, pour 1 enseignement de la
parole articulee aux sourds-muets," 1874.

398 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A person who is deaf from birth is also absolutely dumb, until he
is trained to the use of speech ; he utters no cry. His lips and tongue
are motionless ; his mouth remains shut, his larynx is in a state of
unbroken repose ; he breathes only through the nostrils. When first
the effort is made to have him pronounce a letter written on the black
board, it appears to be simply impossible for him to produce any
sound. The instructor shows the young mute how to open the mouth,
and how to hold the tongue and the lips. He places the child s hand
upon his own larynx, so that it may feel the movement necessary to
be performed. In the beginning, the simple expulsion of the breath
is difficult, but, after repeated exercise, there is a sort of stifled articu
lation ; later, with some difficulty, a clear sound is obtained. In this
way the deaf-mute learns to pronounce all the vowels and consonants.
It needs but a short time to acquire the pronunciation of the labials.
Longer practice is needed in order to learn the play of the tongue,
and the proper mode of emitting the breath in articulating those con
sonants which call for only a slight intervention of the lips. Having
learned the alphabet, the mute begins to pronounce syllables and
phrases written on the blackboard. Finally, he speaks, and is under
stood. He writes from dictation, with his eyes fixed upon the per
son who addresses him questions, and makes his answers confidently.

OUK COMMON MOULDS.

BY BYEON D. HALSTEAD

following remarks are from personal observations which have
-* been made from time to time as circumstances would permit.
For convenience, the term mould will be extended beyond its narrow
technical meaning, and include all those forms of vegetable life which
are usually designated by that name. No lengthy argument is needed
to prove that mould is of common occurrence. It is a fact well known
to every person, from the wholesale provision-dealer down to the
hungry child who eats his crust upon the street.

Where these plants do not grow it is difficult to say ; but to point
out the favorable conditions for their growth and some of the forms
which they there assume is an easier task, and to this part of the sub
ject the reader s attention is invited.

Moulds belong to that peculiar parasitic group of plants called
Fungi) the members of which never have anything like green leaves,
the workshops of higher plants, and are therefore unable to build up
their tissue from unorganized matter. They must feed upon that
which is already organized, either animal or vegetable, living or dead,
as the species will decide.

OUR COMMON MOULDS. 399

One of the most essential conditions for the development of these
minute fungi is the presence of a good degree of moisture. So well
known is this, that to many minds moisture and mould bear to each
other nothing less than the relation of cause and effect. A warm at
mosphere is also required. In winter the housewife exercises fewer
precautions to keep these intruders from her viands than during the
warm summer weather. Besides organic matter, moisture, and
warmth, a free access of oxygen must be added as an essential condi
tion for the perfect development of moulds.

When the season comes and the soil is ready, the farmer knows
he must sow the seed, or he cannot hope to reap a harvest. So it is
with the moulds : to the conditions for growth there must be added
the germs of life, or no mould will be produced. How this sowing is
accomplished will be better seen after some of the species are con
sidered more in detail.

Our common bread is a substance which offers special inducements
for the growth of various moulds, and, in order to study them, a slice
was taken and placed on a zinc rack on a dinner-plate and covered
with a glass bell-jar lined with filtering-paper which dipped into
some water in the bottom of the plate, producing thus a moist atmos
phere by the evaporation from its extensive surface. This culture

FIG. 1. MOULD CULTURE.

(Fig. 1), placed in a warm room, secured all the important conditions
for the production of a crop of mould. On the bread thus situated a
mould made its appearance in about thirty-six hours, and proved to
be one of the most common of the bread-moulds (Mucor stolonifer),
shown in Fig. 2. When first noticeable, the surface of the bread is
covered with a cobweb-like mass of fine white threads, called myce
lium, which run in all directions through the tissue of the bread, and
perform the work of absorbing nourishment. Soon other and larger
threads begin to rise into the air, their tips enlarge, the protoplasmic
contents of the threads passing up into the ends, which finally assume
a spherical shape. At first these large round heads are of a white

4 oo

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

color ; but soon they begin to grow darker, their contents shaping
into little round bodies, which when ripe are dark-colored and fill
the capsule to repletion. These little bodies thus produced in vast
numbers in the swollen ends of these vertical threads are termed
spores, and answer the same purpose for moulds that seeds do for flow-

FIG. 2.

ering plants. From the same base several of these capsules are pro
duced, varying in age from threads with their tips little swollen, to
the tall and aged ones which have ripened and scattered their spores.
This mould has much the habit of the strawberry-plant, throwing out
runners or stolons, which take root and in turn become new plants to
increase and continue the species. In the culture we have often seen
this mould hanging from the bread on the rack to the plate below, a
distance of four or five inches, with here and there the stolons with
their fruit-clusters hanging in mid-air (Fig. 1).

The fruiting which has been described is asexual, and the spores
thus formed can be likened to the bulbs in the axils of the leaves of
the tiger-lily and other reproductive bodies in flowering plants which
do not result from a fertilized ovule. Several trials were made to cul
tivate the sexual fruit of this plant, but without success ; another
member of the same genus (Mucor Syzygites), which grows on decaying
toadstools, produced them under the bell-jar in large quantities. When
this plant reaches the proper stage of development for the formation
of its sexual fruit, the tips of various filaments become noticeably swol
len. Two of such enlarged ends grow toward each other and finally
meet by their extremities, or rather by the blending of the processes
which each cell puts out, thus forming at first a small cell between
the two united filaments. As maturity is reached, this zygaspore ac-

OUR COMMON MOULDS. 401

quires a diameter much greater than that of the filaments which have
produced it, and is many hundred times the size of the spores formed
in the capsules. It is also provided with two coats, the outer one
thick, dark-colored, and covered with warty excrescences, except on
the two ends where the remnants of the conjugated filaments remain.
Successive stages in the development of these spores are shown in
Fig. 3. At a the two swollen threads are near each other; #, the pro
cess partly completed, with the middle cell plainly seen ; and c, the full-
formed zygaspore, with the remains of the old cells. The importance
of these sexual spores in the economy of the plant is not difficult to

FIG. 3. ZYGOSPORES OF MucoR SYZYGiTEs. De Bary.

understand. The minute asexual spores have a very thin covering,
and under favorable conditions will germinate as soon as formed, but
on the other hand are reacUly destroyed by extreme climatic changes.
The large, well -protected zygaspores which germinate only after
months of ripening, are in every way fitted to carry the species
through the unpropitious season of winter, times of drought, and
severe exposure. When the zygaspore germinates it produces very
soon a large crop of capsules, and their little spores are scattered
far and wide ready to develop into plants in a few hours, as circum
stances shall decide. This dual form of fruiting is an interesting
feature in the life of these little plants, and is as effectual in preserv
ing the species as it is interesting.

After upward of a week from the time the Mucor, of which we
have been speaking, made its appearance on the bread, another mould
was noticed growing over its surface, which was of a much finer struct
ure and dingy yellow in color. When placed under the microscope,
it was found to be peculiar, both in structure and habit of growth.
The filament which bears the spores, as it rises from the matted sur
face of the Mucor^ divides into two branches, each of these into two
others, and so on, until ten or more branches are reached. The same
angle of divergence being preserved in all the branching,, the com-
VOL. ix. 26

4 02

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

pound top assumes a very regular, semicircular outline, as shown in
Fig. 4, a, where the filaments are represented by single lines ; the
whole of the branch b is a more highly-magnified view of a dark tip
at the end of one of the branches in a / and at c is shown, on a still
higher scale, one of the ultimate branches in #, with the spores ar
ranged in rows of four around the enlarged end ; while d is one of
those tips after the spores have fallen away.

The reader will please bear in mind that this figure, and all the
others, with the single exception of the first one, represent the object
as greatly enlarged the microscope used for most of the work mag
nifying 650 diameters. An entire plant of the one in question (Pipto-
cephalis Fresmniana) is scarcely visible to the naked eye when pre
pared on a glass slide for investigation with the microscope.

FIG. 4. PIPTOCEPHALIS FRESJSNIANA. Be Bary.

That which makes this mould of particular interest is the fact that
it is a parasite, and cannot live unless it has some other mould upon
which to grow. This easily explains why it does not make its appear
ance until the Mucor is well established. Here we have a true parasite
growing on a saprophyte ; or one mould which steals its substance from
another which derives its living from the bread. We will not stop to
reason upon the matter, or wonder how this strange state of things
came about, but will leave the fact as it exists to those who would
know the cause of all things both great and small.

There were two or three other members of the Mucor genus which
grew on various cultures, but, as they differ only in minor points of
structure from the one treated, space will not permit of their being
further mentioned.

The bones of a recently-killed dog proved to be very well adapted
for the growth of the largest-known species of mould. Those who
have a passion for scientific names may call it Phycomyces nitens. It

OUR COMMON MOULDS.

403

is one of the few moulds which grow on oil or oily substances, and is so
filthy in its habits as to flourish in the sewers and cesspools of cities.
It is so much like Fig. 2 in structure and manner of fruiting, though
many times larger, that it must pass without an illustration.

The pulp of oranges is an especially favorable diet for some of the
most delicate moulds. A culture made of it will show decided signs
of mouldiness in twenty-four hours, and after thirty-six hours of growth
there is a fine crop for study. Those which we have seen on the bread
are invariably the first to appear here, though followed in a short time
by others, one of the most common of which is given in Fig. 5. At
the base a are some mycelial threads which penetrate the tissue of
the pulp, and from them, as they come to the surface, arise the fruit-
stalks which branch near the top into a loose head with the spore cap
sules borne on the ends of the branches. At c is one of the Sporangia
more highly magnified, showing the spores to be larger and few in
number as compared with the Mucor. This species is a member of
the same family with those already mentioned, and has its similar zy-
gaspores.

FIG. 5.

FIG. 6.

Corn-starch pudding, when placed in a bell-jar, remained unchanged
until the fourth week, when its surface became coated with a peculiar
yellow-colored substance, and a day or so after black specks began to
appear. When viewed with the microscope, this mould exhibited the
structure seen in Fig. 6. There arises from the unbranched and im
bedded filaments a very much swollen end (a and b) filled with proto
plasm, yellow globules of oil, and crystals (d). As this end increases in
size, a contraction takes place near the upper end, and soon a distinct
spore capsule is formed of the end thus separated. When the plant is
ripe a black elastic coat covers the spore-case, which slips partly off
when the spores are discharged from below. Th ere are several spe-

44

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

cies growing on various substances, which have the general structure
of Fig. 6.

We now come to the most common of all the members of the group
of moulds : the blue mould of cheese, bread, and almost every article
of food. In its diet, it does not confine itself to those things found in
a well-stocked pantry, but will flourish on old boots and other articles
of clothing when they are left for a few days in a warm, damp place.
No culture was made without its making its appearance, and often to
the exclusion of all other forms. It is quite small, never reaching but
a very short distance from the substance on which it grows, and under
favorable circumstances forms an even blue crust over the surface of
the nourishing material whether boots or bread. The structure of
this frequent and often unexpected and unwelcome visitor is given in
Fig. 7. Two fully-developed fruit-stalks are seen at a and 5, branching

FIG. 7. PENICILLIUM CBUSTACEUM.

irregularly at the top, and bearing the naked spores in chains at the
ends of the filaments. At c is a young stalk before the spores have
formed from the threads, which is done by a constriction, a familiar
but perhaps rude illustration of which is seen in the making of the
links of sausage. As the spores fall away, new ones are formed below,
and so the process of producing these simplest of reproductive bodies
is indefinitely continued. At the base d are the threads which pene
trate the nourishing substance, on some of which are formed, as the
result of sexual action, spherical bodies which inclose the more en
during sexual spores. From this method of forming subterranean
fruit this little mould is a close relative to the truffle so highly prized
for food.

OUR COMMON MOULDS.

405

With the spores of this mould repeated sowings have been made,
with gratifying results. When a slice of fresh bread was placed in
the bell-jar and certain marked places were sprinkled with spores by
means of a pair of forceps, in the course of twenty-six hours those spots
sown were covered with the young mould, while all other places were
entirely free from it. In one case a fresh slice of bread was wrapped in
a piece of paper, w T ith the exception of a star-shaped figure cut from the
paper, which came in the middle of the slice. Over the whole a slice
of mouldy bread was shaken so gently that no spores were seen to
fall ; the paper was then carefully removed, and the bread placed under
the bell-jar. After the usual time a fine star of blue mould made its
appearance, soon spreading over the whole of the bread. One could
as easily write his name in mould on bread as with clover-seed upon
the soil, though it would not be as enduring an inscription.

It seems difficult for some people to see how the spores of these
various moulds can exist almost everywhere, ready to grow when the
first opportunity offers itself. With the hope of making this matter
appear clearer, the following calculations have been carefully made :
The blue mould (Penicillium crustaceum) is very favorable for the esti
mation of the number of spores produced, as the heads are quite open,
and the spores are naked and distinct.

PIG. 8. TRICOTHECIUM ROSEUM

A piece of decaying apple was selected, because the mould can be
removed from that portion covered with the smooth skin without be-
ing mixed with foreign matter. When the mould was still young and
no spores had fallen away, it was viewed with the high power of the
microscope. There were usually twenty filaments to each head, and
twenty spores on a filament, or 4,000 spores to a head or single stalk.

406

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A small tuft was then carefully taken from the apple, and placed on
a glass slide, and its area measured with the micrometer, and the num
ber of fruit-stalks it contained determined. The surface was T ^ of
an inch square, and the number of stalks 800. As the square inch is
a familiar unit of measurement, the estimate made for that small ex
tent of surface gives 3,200,000,000 spores. It is a well-known fact
that not only inches, but feet, and even acres of this mould are pro
duced, and the number of spores for daily use must be perfectly appall
ing. They are light, airy, and invisible to the naked eye and therefore
ecape our notice ; were they female mosquitoes, we would realize their
nearness and number. With such multitudes of germs produced we
need not wonder that the sowing for moulds should be natural and
complete. The light which the microscope throws upon this subject
makes it unnecessary to resort to " spontaneous generation " to ac
count for the almost certain growth of mould when the proper condi
tions are combined.

FIG. 9. PEZIZA FUCHELIANA. De Bary.

When a slice of bread which has been thoroughly overrun by the
Penicillium is left under the bell-jar, another mould almost invariably
comes, covering the blue surface with a rose-colored coat. The
asexual spores and their method of formation are given in Fig. 8.
It will be observed that the fruit-stalks are unbranched, the spores
when mature always double, and arranged on the stalks in whorls.
The development is from below upward : a showing an old stalk with
the youngest spores nearly ripe, and some of the older ones gone from
their attachments; at b is a younger stalk, where the older whorls
are complete and the upper ones small and indistinguishable ; c is a
more enlarged view of a cluster of ripe spores. After this mould,
which is of slow growth, has run its course, the bread seldom produces
any other forms, and for further study a new culture must be made.

OUR COMMON MOULDS.

407

In Fig. 9 is given a mould which makes its home on decaying herb
age, and is found to perfection in old waste-heaps where weeds and
other green matter have been deposited. So common is it, that a cult
ure is more a matter of convenience than necessity. The fruit-stalks
are upright, considerably branched at the top, with the spores borne
in bunches at the ends of the filament. At a is a much enlarged view

O

of one of these naked heads of spores, and another where the spores
have mostly fallen away. As the fruit-stalks grow old they break
down in every way, giving the appearance of a forest over which a
tempest has passed.

Of the black moulds Fig. 10 shows a common and very simple rep
resentation. It grew as a sooty coating on a culture made of sliced
raw potatoes. It is so very simple that any space taken for descrip
tion seems unnecessary. The black spores are nothing more than por
tions of single or branched filaments cut off in a very regular manner.

FIG. 10.

FIG 11.

In Fig. 11 is given the general structure of a large number of re
lated moulds which grow wherever they can get a foothold. The
drawing was made from one found on some turnip-roots left upon the
ground over winter. Like many others, it forms an olive-brown, vel
vety coating of considerable thickness ; and, because of their low
habits and inobtrusive nature, they pass readily for dirt or decay, and
are seldom noticed. They are the lowly forms which some of the
highest of the fungi assume in passing through one stage of their
polymorphic existence.

A score of other species of moulds deserve mention here which are
found on various substances either forced under the bell-jar, or grow
ing naturally ; but we know how unattractive such descriptions would
be without accompanying figures, and therefore pass them by.

408

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

For the last place in this brief enumeration we have reserved one
of the most common of household moulds. It is the prince of moulds,
and claims relationship with the most perfect and beautiful of fungi.
In diet it is something of an epicure, and may well be called the cake
and preserve mould, and on those substances the best results are al
ways obtained when used for its culture. Though preferring its cake
and preserves, it was induced to grow on a tempting dish of stewed
prunes, which afterward furnished the substance for its culture.

To the naked eye this mould at first appears as white patches ; soon
stalks rise from the surface, and on the end of each a small spherical
head is borne, which increases in size and turns to a bluish color, so
that when this mould is ripe the surface of the nourishing substance
does not differ greatly in color from the Penicillium on the bread,
though this mould is much taller and more inclined to grow in tufts.
Under the microscope the tip of a very young filament which is to
form a head of spores is seen to be perfectly smooth and similar to
those in the Mucor, but very soon small peg-like projections begin to
grow from its surface, which increase in size and finally divide, forming
radiating rows of spores.

FIG, 12. EUROTIUM ASPERGILLUS GLAUCU9. De Bary.

FIG. 13.

Various stages in the development of the asexual fruiting of this
mould are shown in Fig. 12, #, a, with a view of an imaginary cross-
section through one of these heads highly magnified in , giving the
method of attachment of the spore-threads.

Shortly after the heads have formed, the sexual fruit begins to de
velop on the mycelium at the base of the fruit-stalks. The method is
more complicated than in any of the moulds already given, and places
this plant among the most highly developed of fungi. The process
begins with the coiling of the end of a thread in a corkscrew manner

WHAT ARE SPECIES? 409

as seen in c and d (Fig. 13). The coils grow closer together as the
filament increases in size, until a hollow cylinder is formed. From
the same threads below the base of the coil one or more processes
grow out which are the male organs, and, where one of these threads
reaches the tip of the female coiled filament, that organ is fertilized.
From this time on, this body undergoes various and complicated
changes, which finally result in a bright-yellow spherical body (Fig.
13, /"), which consists of a thin wall inclosing a large number of sacs,
<7, each of which contains eight spores.

To find all these various stages of development is a matter of some
time and patience; but nothing is more satisfactory in the study of
moulds than to trace all these steps, from the first bending of the fila
ment to the perfect sphere with its multitude of spores.

For a long time these two forms of fruit in the Aspergillus were
considered as belonging to distinct and widely-separated species, but,
when the microscope shows that they are produced from the same my
celium, it is time to conclude that they are but two methods of continu
ing the same species.

Space forbids further details concerning our common moulds; but
it is hoped enough has been said to show that among them the spe
cies are distinct. The tiny forests which the microscope reveals are
made up of forms as decided as those which compose our woodlands
and groves. In closing, the reader expects an answer to the question
which very naturally arises, viz., " What good do they do ? " Though
often of great annoyance in domestic and other affairs, yet all in all it
is safe to say the good they accomplish far overbalances the harm.
They are scavengers which do in their own inobtrusive way a vast
amount of sanitary w r ork. Though small in themselves, they are great
reducing agents, striving to bring about that equilibrium so necessary
to perfect harmony in the organic world. They hasten decay, tear
down the accumulating rubbish around us, and allow the elements thus
liberated to pass again into the cycle of ceaseless activity and growth.

To the thoughtful mind moulds do not simply excite wonder or dis
gust, but teach a deeper lesson of adaptation and service of little
things, in the perfect and economical scheme of creation.

WHAT AKE SPECIES?

BY PROF. T. H. HUXLEY.

IN" its most general acceptation the word " species " signifies a kind
or sort of something, which something is the genus to which the
species belongs. Thus, a black stone is a species of the genus stone ;
a gray horse is a species of the genus horse ; a scalene triangle is a
species of the genus triangle ; and, generally, it may be said that

4 io THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

every adjective denotes a species of the genus indicated by the sub
stantive to which it is applied.

In the technology of the physical sciences the term " species " has
a more restricted signification. It is used to denote a group of indi
viduals which corresponds with an early stage of that process of ab
straction by which the qualities of individual objects are arranged in
the subordinated categories of classification.

The individual object alone exists in Nature ; but, when individual
objects are compared, it is found that many agree in all those charac
ters which, for the particular purpose of the classifier, are regarded
as important, while they differ only in those which are unimportant ;
and those w r hich thus agree constitute a species, the definition of
which is a statement of the common characters of the individuals
which compose the species.

Again, when the species thus established are compared, certain of
them are found to agree with one another, and to differ from all the
rest in some one or more peculiarities. They thus form a group,
which, logically, is merely a species of higher order, while technically
it is termed a " genus." And, by a continuation of the same process,
genera are grouped into families, families into orders, and so on.
Each of the groups thus named is in the logical sense a genus, of which
the next lower groups constitute the species.

The characters on which species are based necessarily depend upon
the nature of the bodies classified. Thus, mineral species are founded
upon purely morphological characters ; that is to say, they are defined
by peculiarities either of form, color, and the like, or of structure, which
last term may be used to include both the physical and the chemical
characteristics of a mineral. The distinction between a species and a
variety is wholly arbitrary, except so far as it is commonly agreed that
individuals which differ from others only as terms of a gradual series
of modifications belong to the same species, and are to be considered
merely as varieties of that species.

It is conceivable that animals and plants should have been known
to us only by their remains preserved in museums or in the fossil state.
If this had been the case, biological, like mineralogical species, could
have been defined only by morphological characters ; that is to say,
by the peculiarities of their outward form and inward structure ; and,
as a matter of fact, this is the state of our knowledge in respect of a
large proportion of the existing fauna and flora of the world, and of
all extinct animals and plants.

A botanist or a conchologist who sets to work to arrange a newly-
received collection sorts his plants or his shells out according to their
likenesses and unlikenesses of form and structure, until he has arranged
them into groups of individuals which agree in certain constant char
acters and differ only by insignificant features, or by such peculiarities
as vary in different individuals in such a manner that an insensible

WHAT ARE SPECIES? 411

gradation can be traced between those forms which have the pecu
liarity strongly marked and those in which it is absent.

Thus far the considerations which guide the biologist in the estab
lishment of species differ in no respect from those which influence the
mineralogist.

But although naturalists have no more direct knowledge of any but
the morphological character of the great majority of the species of
animals and plants than they would have of so many mineral speci
mens, they are familiar w r ith many animals and plants in the living
state when they exhibit phenomena to which the mineral world pre
sents no parallel, and the study of these phenomena of active life has
complicated the conception of species in biology, by adding physio
logical to morphological considerations.

The fact that living beings originate by generation from other
living beings is one of the circumstances in their history which most
completely differentiates them from minerals. This process of gener
ation enters in various ways into the conception of biological species.

For example, it is a generally assumed axiom in biology that
whatever proceeds from a living being by way of generation is of
the same species as that from which it proceeds, whether the morpho
logical differences between parent and offspring be great or small.
The two sexes are often extraordinarily different, and in cases of the
so-called alternation of generation the successive zooids may differ
very widely ; but, inasmuch as the differing forms in these cases pro
ceed from the same parents, no one doubts that they belong to the same
species. The breeds of domesticated animals and plants often differ
morphologically as widely as admitted species, but, apart from other
considerations, historical evidence that they have the same parentage
suffices to cause them to be regarded as of one species. It is not
quite clear that the converse of the axiom which has just been re
ferred to would be admitted, and that living beings which arise from
totally distinct parents are of different species, even though morpho
logically identical. The wellnigh exploded hypothesis of the multi
plicity of centres of origin for species of wide distribution implies the
belief that groups of individuals which have proceeded from distinct
ly-created parents may, nevertheless, be of the same species, while
the supporters of the no less nearly extinct hypothesis of the inde
pendent creation of the fauna and flora of successive formations used
to affirm that, although indistinguishable, two forms from separate
formations must be of distinct species, because they had been created
separately. However, these subtilties have ceased to have any prac
tical importance.

In the next place it is observed that, while individuals of the same
morphological species breed freely with one another and give rise to
perfectly fertile offspring, the unions of individuals of different mor
phological species are, as a rule, either unfertile or imperfectly fertile.

4 i2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Thus fertility, like parentage, has become a physiological character of
species ; and, though in the case of some domesticated animals, as
pigeons, the extreme forms are more different from one another than
many morphological species, yet they, apart from the historical evi
dence of their parentage, are held to be members of the same species,
because they are all perfectly fertile one with another, and their off
spring are also perfectly fertile.

Thirdly, it is a matter of experience that, as a general rule, and
taking the whole cycle of forms through which a living being runs
into account, offspring and parent are so similar that they belong to
one and the same morphological species ; and it is further in evidence
that many species have endured for extremely long periods without
any notable difference being discernible between ancestor and de
scendant. Moreover, in some cases, varieties are found to revert to
the character of the species from which they have proceeded. The
conclusion has been drawn that the character of species is physio
logically fixed ; that is to say, that, however long the process of gen
eration may be continued, the individuals either retain the identical
morphological character of the oldest ancestor, or, if they vary, the
varieties remain fertile with one another.

Assuming that species have the physiological character thus enu
merated, certain conclusions respecting the " origin of species " are
inevitable. It is clear that no existing species can have arisen by the
intercrossing of preexisting species, or by the variation of preexist
ing species, but that every species must have existed from all eter
nity, or have come into existence suddenly in its present form, which
is the objective fact denoted by what is termed creation.

At the dawn of modern biology, a century ago, no scientific evi
dence respecting the real history of life on the globe was extant, and,
for any proof that existed to the contrary, species might have been
of eternal duration. But philosophical speculation combined with
theological dogma not only to favor the contrary opinion, but to lead
the most philosophic naturalist of his day to embody the hypothesis
of creation in a definition of species. " Totidem numeramus species
quot in principio formae sunt creataB " (we reckon as many species as
there were forms created in the beginning) is the well-known formula
of Linna3us.

In practice Linnaeus regarded species from a purely mythological
point of view ; in theory, he assumed the common ancestry and the
limited variability of species, though he was disposed to allow more
freedom in this direction than most of his successors. On the other
hand, he seems to have attached comparatively little weight to the
assumed sterility of hybrids, and to have held a sort of modified doc
trine of evolution, supposing that existing species may have been
produced by the interbreeding of comparatively few primordial
forms.

WHAT ARE SPECIES? 413

It is mainly to the influence of Cuvier s authority that we owe the
general acceptance of the views respecting the physiological charac
ter of species, which up till within the last few years have been almost
universally prevalent.

In the introduction to the " Regne Animal " (1816), Cuvier writes :

There is no proof that all the differences which now distinguish organized
beings are such as may have been produced by circumstances. All that has
been advanced upon this subject is hypothetical ; experience seems to show, on
the contrary, that, in the actual state of things, varieties are confined within
rather narrow limits, and, so far as we can retrace antiquity, we perceive that
these limits were the same as at present.

" We are thus obliged to admit of certain forms, which since the origin of
things have been perpetuated, without exceeding these limits ; and all the be
ings appertaining to one of these forms constitutes what is termed a species.
Varieties are accidental subdivisions of species.

" Generation being the only means of ascertaining the limits to which varie
ties may extend, species should be defined, the reunion of individuals descended
from one another, or from common parents, or from such as resemble them as
closely as they resemble each other ; but, although this definition is vigorous, it
will be seen that its application to particular individuals may be very different
when the necessary experiments have been made."

It need hardly be said, however, that in practice Cuvier founded
his species upon purely and exclusively morphological characters, just
as his predecessors and successors have done. The combination of
Cuvier s views on the-dxity of species with the discovery of the suc
cession of life on the globe, which was so largely the result of his
labors, led his successors into curious difficulties. Developing the
fundamental idea of the " Discours sur les Revolutions de la Surface
du Globe," naturalists were forced to conclude not only that existing
species are the result of creation, but that the creative act by which
they were brought into being was only the last repetition of a series
of such acts by which the often depopulated world has been as fre
quently repeopled, and thus orthodox belief respecting the existing
flora and fauna led to a terribly heterodox cosmogony.

The contemporary and countryman of Cuvier, Lamarck, must be
regarded as the chief founder of the reaction against the doctrines
which Cuvier advocated a reaction which, overpowered and disre
garded for many years, has acquired such force since and through the
publication of the " Origin of Species," that it has almost swept op
position away. Lamarck s vast acquaintance with the details of in
vertebrate zoology rendered him familiar with the great variability
of many species, and led him to see that variation is in some way
related to change of conditions ; the frequent occurrence of transi
tional forms between apparently distinct species, when large suites of
specimen s (especially when they are obtained from different parts of
a wide geographical area) are examined, tended to bring into strong

414 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

light the tenuity of the distinction between species and varieties.
The fact of embryology, the occurrence of rudimentary organs, and
the fundamental unity of structure which obtains in vast groups,
such as the vertebrata and arthropoda, all tended to suggest the ex
istence of a genetic connection between species, so that Lamarck was
finally led to renounce the doctrine of the fixity of species, and to
define a species as " a collection of individuals which resemble each
other and produce their like by generation, so long as the surrounding
conditions do not alter to such an extent as to cause their habits,
characters, and forms, to vary."

According to this definition the distinction between species and
variety once more becomes conventional. A variety is, in fact, a nas
cent species ; and the notion of the creation of species vanishes, inas
much as every species is the result of the modification of a predeces
sor. Lamarck s views of the nature of geological changes were in
harmony with his biological speculations, and wholesale catastrophic
revolutions were as completely excluded from the one as from the
other.

It is impossible to read the " Discours sur les Involutions " of
Cuvier, and the " Principes " of Lamarck, without being struck with
the superiority of the former in sobriety of thought, precision of
statement, and coolness of judgment. And it is no less impossible to
consider the present state of biological science without being im
pressed by the circumstance that it is the conception of Lamarck
which has triumphed, and that of Cuvier which has been utterly van
quished.

Catastrophic geology has vanished out of sight, and is everywhere
replaced by the conception of slow and gradual change. With it has
disappeared the once prevalent notion that the whole living popula
tion of the earth has been swept away and replaced in successive
epochs. On the contrary, it is now well established that the changes
which have taken place in that population have been effected by the
slow and gradual substitution of species for species.

Moreover, it is well established that in some cases the succession
of forms in time is the same as that which should have occurred if
the hypothesis of evolution is correct.

The rapid advance of comparative anatomy has diminished or re
moved the wide intervals which formerly appeared to separate the
different divisions of the animal and vegetable kingdoms from one
another. Even the hiatus between the vertebrata and the inverte-
brata is bridged over by recent discovery. The establishment of the
cell-theory, however much the views originally propounded by
Schwann have been modified, leaves no doubt that there is a funda
mental similarity in minute structure, not only between all animals,
but between them and plants, while the discoveries of embryologists
have proved that even the most complex forms of living beings do, in

WHAT ARE SPECIES? 415

the course of their development, run through a series of changes of
the same order as those which are postulated by the evolution-theory
for life in time.

Again, the facts of geographical distribution, as now known, are
absolutely incompatible with the hypothesis that existing animals and
plants have migrated from a common centre, whether Mount Ararat
or any other ; and, by demonstrating the similarity of the existing
fauna and flora of any locality to that which inhabited the same area
in the immediately precedent epoch, have furnished a strong argument
in favor of the modifiability of species. Thus, it is not too much to
say that the facts of biology known at the present day are all con
sistent with and in favor of the view of species entertained by La
marck, while they are unfavorable to, if not incompatible with, those
advocated by Cuvier; and that, even if no suggestion has been
offered, or could be offered, as to the causes which have led to the
gradual evolution of species, the hypothesis that they have arisen by
such a process of evolution would be the only one which would have
any scientific foundation.

The great service which has been rendered to science by Mr. Dar
win, in the " Origin of Species " is that, in the first place, he has mar
shaled the ascertained facts of biology in such a manner as to render
this conclusion irresistible ; and, secondly, that he has proved the fol
lowing proposition : Given, the existence of living matter endowed
with variability, the interaction of variation with the conditions of ex
istence must tend to give rise to a differentialism of the living matter
into forms having the same morphological relations as are exhibited
by the varieties and species which actually exist in Nature.

What is needed for the completion of the theory of the origin of
species is, first, definite proof that selective breeding is competent to
convert permanent races into physiologically distinct species ; and,
secondly, the elucidation of the nature of variability. It is conceiv
able that both the tendency to vary and the directions in which that
tendency takes effect are determined by the molecular constitution of
a living body, in which case the operation of the changes of external
conditions will be indirect, and, so to speak, permissive. It is con
ceivable, on the other hand, that the tendency to vary is both origi
nated and directed by the influence of external conditions, while it is
also conceivable that both variation and the direction which variation
takes are partly determined by intrinsic and partly by extrinsic con
ditions. The American Cyclopcedia.

416 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MALAEIA. 1

BY CHAELES P. EUSSEL, M. D.

THE terms malaria and miasm in medical phraseology include the
causes of a large class of affections what are known more par
ticularly as zymotic diseases, which depend upon a variety of specific
organic poisons whose essential nature, composition, and form, are
mostly inappreciable as yet by scientific research. The general under
standing, however, of these terms, is more limited ; and, in conformity
with the popular idea, I shall in the present paper confine their appli
cation to the cause of those wide-spread disorders, intermittent and re
mittent fevers the former of which is so well known as " chills and
fever " or " fever and ague."

"Timeout of mind," as Watson remarks, "it had been matter of
common observation that the inhabitants of wet and marshy situations
were especially subject to these definite and unequivocal forms of dis
ease." The same natural agencies which are now at work elaborating,
evolving, and disseminating malaria must have been equally in opera
tion ever since the surface of the earth assumed its present condition.
Vast and remote wildernesses that have never known human presence
teem, as of yore, with deadly exhalations that almost preclude the
bold attempts of enterprising man to lay bare their secrets. There
are some parts of India, as Bishop Heber informs us, which even mon
keys and other wild animals instinctively desert between April and
October of each year. The tigers go up to the hills ; the antelopes
and wild-hogs make incursions into the cultivated plains ; and those
persons, such as dak-bearers and military people, who are obliged to
venture into the marshy jungles, agree that not so much as a bird can
be heard or seen in the frightful solitude.

The celebrated Pontine Marshes may be regarded as the classic
home of malaria. The older historical records describe this tract as
occupied with numerous towns by the Yolsci. It was evidently a fer
tile region ; for we read in Livy that the early Romans sent thither
during a season of scarcity for a supply of corn. Three hundred and
twelve years B. c., the Censor Appius Claudius Caecus constructed
the Appian Way across the length of the Pontine region, the soil of
which must then have been sufficiently compact to support the heavy
causeway. At some period of the subsequent century and a half, the
country seems to have undergone great deterioration either from nat
ural or civil causes, and to have become partially inundated ; for, about
170 B. c., we find the Consul Cornelius Cethegus applying himself to
draining the marshes, and restoring the land to cultivation and salu-

1 A portion of a. paper read before the New York Public Health Association, April
13, 1870.

MALARIA. 417

brity. The result of his efforts was, that new and flourishing towns
arose on the ruins of the ancient Volscian cities. The civil wars, how
ever, and the devastation which accompanied them, again caused the
hydraulic works of the Pontine Marshes to fall into neglect, until they
were repaired by Augustus, who constructed several new canals, espe
cially a navigable one skirted by the Appian Way. It was on this
canal, at Forum Appii, that Horace embarked one evening, and at
the same spot St. Paul first met his countrymen from Rome. Nerva
and Trajan both contributed to the drainage of the Pontine Marshes,
and left inscriptions, still extant, which testify to their great interest
in the project. During the convulsions of the following centuries
they were overflowed anew, until in the reign of Theodosius they were
once more drained, with most beneficial effect, by a public-spirited in
dividual named Caacilius Decius. We have no subsequent account of
the condition of this region until the end of the thirteenth century,
when Pope Boniface VIII. constructed some works to drain it. Leo
X. employed the engineer Giovanni Scotti to repair and enlarge the
canal of Badino, the principal outlet of the marshes, and Sixtus V.
built a large lateral canal. The most important improvements, how
ever, were effected by Pius VI. , and a system of effectual drainage
was almost completed, when the low condition of the papal treasury
and the confusion attendant upon the French Revolutionary invasion
completely arrested the undertaking, which up to that time had in
volved an expense equal to $1,622,000. No new works have since
been attempted, although the authorities endeavor to keep the canals
clear and the dikes in repair. The greater part of the plain is covered
with rich pastures ; but, except the post-stations along the highway,
and some scattered huts of herdsmen, it has and can have no perma
nent population.

Taking the United States census of 1870 as a guide for our own
country, we find malarial fevers forming a very important feature of
the mortality-tables. They are most fatal in Florida, Louisiana, and
Texas. Next in order follow Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, Geor
gia, Missouri, Kansas, and Nevada. In another group distinguished by
a somewhat less mortality we find New Mexico, the Carolinas, Virginia,
Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, and Indiana. Those States marked by
the lowest mortality are the New England and Middle States, Wis
consin, and Minnesota. In California there is a considerable ratio of
mortality, diminishing easterly in Utah, and northerly in Oregon and
Washington Territory, while it augments largely toward the south
in New Mexico. Since the census was taken, however, that is, since
about 1869, there has been noticed an evident extension of the subtile
miasmatic agency over regions previously exempt from it, in the Mid
dle and New England States. The increase of mortality by this cause
in New York City has been notable, but can scarcely be attributed
entirely to local influences. In 1868 there were registered in this city
VOL. ix. 27

4 i 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

only 98 deaths from malarial fevers. In 1 869 ^they rose to 128; in
1870, to 213 ; in 1871, to 291 ; and in 1872, to 348 : an increase of
350 per cent, in four years. Since then some diminution in tjieir fatal
ity has occurred. They occasioned 282 deaths in 1873, 295 in 1874,
and 275 in 1875.

Let us now consider under what circumstances malaria may be
produced. Although it cannot be denied that there are peculiar local
ities where, with apparently every presumed condition existing for the
development of malaria, that poison is entirely absent, yet the concur
rence of malarial emanations with such conditions in innumerable
places establishes beyond a question their direct relation. The essen
tial element in the production of malaria would appear to be vegetable
decomposition ; and, in order that this process shall ensue, the simul
taneous operation of air, moisture, and a certain high range of tem
perature, is absolutely required. Localities, therefore, where such com
bination occurs, are prolific of malaria. Of this character are swamps
and morasses, alluvial deposits, loose, porous, sandy, and argillaceous
soils, or deep, loamy, marly lands underlaid by impermeable strata
affording* capacity for the retention of moisture, regions exposed to
periodical or occasional inundation, places left bare by the subsidence
of lakes or drying up of streams, and particularly areas subject to
the intermingling of salt and fresh water as salt-marshes into which
fresh streams discharge, or regions liable to tidal overflow and re
cession.

The exhalations from marshy tracts are recognized by their effects
upon the human system throughout the world; and the fact that
marshes bear a causative relation to malaria has been demonstrated in
numerous instances by the disappearance of fever after thorough
drainage and cultivation, and its reappearance upon their being al
lowed to relapse into neglect. The favorable effect of drainage and
cultivation is owing both to the systematic removal of water near the
surface, and most probably also to the absorption by the growing
crops of the products of organic decomposition. On the same prin
ciple Prof. Maury succeeded in antagonizing the noxious emanations
from a marsh surrounding the observatory at Washington by planting
it thickly with sunflowers, which seem to possess an extraordinary ab
sorbing power. Sebastian is inclined to believe that the Calamus
aromaticus which grows in some swamps has a similar neutralizing
quality. Swamps covered with water are not so dangerous as those
partially dry, the layer of water serving as a protection against the
access of air and heat to the vegetable matter underneath.

A certain continuous range of temperature seems essential to the
development of malaria, which is almost unknown beyond 60 north
and 57 south latitude, and during the cold season in the temperate
zone. According to Hirsch, it prevails up to various degrees of lati
tude and average annual temperature. It is the average summer tern-

MALARIA. 419

perature, however, that is of account, and the northern limit of this
lies between the isotherms of 59 and 59.8 Fahr., giving a prolonged
temperature sufficiently high to insure vegetable decomposition.

The alluvial soil along the banks of rivers and at their deltas, as
those of the Ganges, Nile, Orinoco, and Mississippi, gives rise to fevers
of a very malignant type. Their banks are subject to overflow, and
frequently have a clayey subsoil, presenting an obstacle to percolation
thus upon the river s receding into its ordinary channel its banks
remain damp below the surface, and disease is generated by the sun s
agency. A like process annually takes place in the extensive plains
and table-lands formed of alluvium washed down from mountain-
ranges during the lapse of centuries, and having few actual marshes.
Profuse rains, succeeded by dry hot seasons, render such regions ex
ceedingly insalubrious during certain periods of the year. Somewhat
similar in character are the oases of the Desert of Sahara, which
abound in malaria. Hirsch describes these spots as consisting of
trough-like depressions in a rocky or highly-hygroscopic soil, the re
ceptacle of subterranean waters, and covered with a layer of alluvium,
the surface of the oasis. In this the fierce heat of the sun causes
cracks and deep rifts in the earth, which give free vent to the miasm
evolved from beneath.

Sandy plains, especially when at the foot of tropical hills and cov
ered with vegetation, as the "Terai" at the base of the Himalayan
range, are often infested with malaria. In other cases sandy plains
at a distance from hills, apparently dry and not subject to variations
in the ground-water, are equally sources of the poison. Such in
stances as the latter might seem to militate against the generally-
accepted theory, but actually do not. Some sands which appear quite
free from organic admixture are really the reverse. Faure has pointed
out that the sandy soil of the Landes in Southwestern France contains
a large amount of organic ingredient which is constantly decomposing
and gives rise to periodic fevers. Under such sands, moreover, there
is frequently a subsoil of clay. Here, then, assuming a continued
high range of temperature, we find all the conditions necessary for
the production of malaria.

Localities subject to the intermixture of salt and fresh water are
particularly prone to malaria. The Maremmas of Italy afford exam
ples of this on a large scale. The Maremma of Lucca consists of three
basins formerly dotted over with ponds and pools. It had been for
centuries frequently overflowed by the sea-tides which intermingled
with its fresh ponds. Malarial fevers ravaged it and rendered it
almost uninhabitable. To the wayfarer who was so imprudent as to
spend a night of August or September within its desolate bounds, the
penalty was almost certain death. A remedy for this deplorable con
dition of things was long sought. A proposition had been made in
1714 by the engineer Rondelli to attempt the exclusion of the sea.

4 zo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Renewed in 1730 by Manfredi, and six years later by Zendrini, a mathe
matician of Bologna, the idea was finally carried into execution in
1740. The initial attempt was made upon the principal and most un-
healthful basin. A sluice was constructed at the entrance of the canal
of Burlamacca through which the waters of the sea penetrated into
the basin to its central pond. The flood-gate was so arranged as to
act like a valve, shutting by the pressure of the rising tide and open
ing when it fell. The success of this enterprise was so complete that
in the following year the miasmatic diseases which had never failed to
show themselves annually did not reappear, and the whole district was
rendered salubrious. It was at this period that the village ofViar-
regio, previously abandoned and composed only of a few fishers huts
grouped at the foot of an old tower where galley-slaves were confined,
became a place of fashionable resort during the summer for the aris
tocracy of Lucca. This fact of a region s being rendered healthy by
the exclusion of sea-water is curious, but made more decisive still by
its counter-proof. In l768- 69 fevers suddenly sprang up again as bad
as ever in the same territory. Upon the cause being investigated, it
was found that the sluice had become deranged and the mixture of
waters had been reestablished. Upon the flood-gate being repaired,
the malaria was again extinguished. The same occurrence happened
in 1784- 85. The sluice having been neglected, there took place in
1784, out of a population of 1,900, the enormous number of 1,200 cases
of malarial fever and 92 deaths. In the following year there oc
curred 103 deaths. The trouble was remedied in the same manner as
before. The other portions of the Maremma were rendered healthy
later, by sluices successively established at different points. Such a
remarkable result necessarily attracted public attention. Leopold II.,
Grand-duke of Tuscany, was particularly impressed by it, and he con
ceived the great idea of improving the whole Tuscan Maremma in
the same manner. It was an immense undertaking which he contem
plated an actual transformation of a large part of his dominions
and it redounds to his glory that he succeeded, in the face of almost
insurmountable obstacles, by the means described, and a properly-
directed system of canalization and field-culture, in regenerating a
very considerable portion of his territory.

It is not difficult to account for the generation of malaria under
such circumstances as those just mentioned. The minute forms of
vegetable life with which both fresh and salt water teem require their
own special element for continued existence. The intermixture of
salt with fresh water introduces a new element with which the life
maintained in each separately is incompatible. The surface of the
soil consequently after every invasion and retirement of the tide ex
poses to the action of the heat a mass of defunct vegetable material
spread out over an extensive area, and in most favorable condition for
speedy decomposition.

MALARIA. 421

Besides the localities enumerated, malaria is apt to be induced or
intensified in a region wholly or comparatively exempt from it be
fore, during the disturbance of large extents of soil, as in the construc
tion of canals, roads, railways, fortifications, and dikes, rooting out
of timber, preparation of virgin land for cultivation, etc. Vegetable
organisms previously hidden and protected underground are thus
brought to the surface and exposed to the agencies of putrefaction.
Laborers engaged in such works and the neighboring inhabitants soon
suffer. The "polders" of Holland, those parts reclaimed from the
sea by the erection of dikes, are of this character, and the workmen
engaged on them are attacked with malarial troubles of great severity.
In this country such instances are common. We have an example at
our very doors in the increase of malarial fevers which accompanied
the opening of the new boulevards, and the engineering excavations
of the Harlem Railroad. After such works have been completed,
however, it is not unusual for the vicinity to be restored to health-
fulness.

It must be acknowledged that occasionally miasmatic fevers ap
pear and disappear without there having occurred any perceptible
changes in the relations of the soil. Such circumstances were re
ported to the Pennsylvania State Medical Society as having been
noticed in 1856 along the Juniata River. Reports to the Connecticut
State Medical Society also mention the appearance of miasmatic
disorders without any recognized cause in portions of the State pre
viously exempt from them.

There would appear to be some connection between such phe
nomena and the fluctuating level of the subsoil-water as affected either
by rainfalls or subterranean forces. According to Jilek s figures, in
Pola, a noted malarious district of Istria, between 1863 and 1868 the
number of persons attacked by fever varied from fourteen to fifty-
one in every one hundred inhabitants, in exact proportion as the
rainfall had varied from one to eighteen inches.

We know that the level of the ground-water is constantly changing.
It rises and falls more or less rapidly, and at different rates in differ
ent places in some only a few inches either way annually, but in
many places several feet. In Munich, its limit was found by Petten-
kofer to be about ten feet. In India, the changes are greater. At
Saugor, in Central India, the extremes are between a few inches from
the surface during the rains, to seventeen feet in May. At Jubbulpore
it varies from two to fifteen feet from the surface. The causes of such
changes are rainfalls, pressure of water from seas or rivers, and ob
struction of outflow. The pressure of the Rhine has been observed
to affect the water in a well 1,670 feet distant from the river. An
impeded outflow which raises the level of the ground-water has been
productive of an immense spread of paroxysmal fevers. Demster,
Taylor, and Ferguson, have reported such to have been the case in

422 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

portions of India. The severe and fatal fevers prevailing in Burdo-
wan, Lower Bengal, during the last fifteen or twenty years, have been
coincident with obstruction to the natural drainage from mills, and
blockage of water-courses. The same cause has doubtless operated
to a great extent in producing the fevers of Bloomingdale, Manhat-
tanville, Yorkville, and Harlem. The establishment during the past
five years of extensive subsoil drains in those portions of New York
has had a visible tendency to diminish the area of malaria. A similar
result on a large scale has been noticed in Lincolnshire and other
parts of England, where many malarious tracts have been rendered
quite healthy by similar measures, having for their object the low
ering of the subsoil water-level by an increased outflow.

I have thus far confined my observations to endemic malaria. But,
like other diseases dependent upon telluric or organic emanations,
miasmatic fevers occasionally assume an epidemic character, and,
breaking loose from their native haunts, overspread a wide extent
of territory. Thus, as Hertz informs us, nearly the whole of Europe
was invaded by such epidemics in 1558 in 1678- 79 from 1718 to
1722 from 1824 to 1827 and from 1845 to 1848. The cause of
malaria being thus propagated is as mysterious as that of most epi
demics. It is possible that such an epidemic malarial influence
has been prevailing here; but we must not lose sight of the fact
that sporadic cases of malarial fever appearing in non-malarial dis
tricts can frequently be traced to previous exposure in an infected
locality.

Malaria, although having its ordinary habitat in low-lying re
gions, may under conditions favorable for its production exist at great
elevations. On the Tuscan Apennines it is found at a height of 1,100
feet above the sea ; on the Pyrenees and Mexican Cordilleras, 5,000
feet ; on the Himalayas,, 6,400 feet ; on the island of Ceylon, 6,500
feet; and on the Andes, 11,000 feet. Sometimes, however, at con
siderable elevations it is unaccountably absent under circumstances
apparently supplying every condition for its development. Thus,
according to Jourdanet, close to the city of Mexico lies the lake of
Tescudo, some twenty-five square miles in extent, composed partly
of fresh and partly of brackish water, with a clayey bottom often
laid bare over large areas as the result of evaporation under a tem
perature of 122 to 140 Fahr., notwithstanding which, malarial fevers
seldom occur in its vicinity. At Puebla, Mexico, on the other hand,
is a very malarious marsh 5,000 feet above the sea. Under ordinary
circumstances, a certain altitude affords immunity from malaria,
although low elevations of 200 or 300 feet above a miasmatic
tract are often more dangerous than the flat lands the poison seem
ing to float upward and become intensified. This was long no
ticeable on the heights of Bergen Hill, West Hoboken, and Wee-
hawken, which overlook the Jersey flats. At present, the elevation

MALARIA. 423

of entire security is not positively determined, but it has "been
approximated as follows : in Italy, 400 to 500 feet ; in California,
1,000 feet ; along the Appalachian chain of the United States, 3,000
feet ; in the West Indies, 1,400 to 1,800 feet ; in India, 2,000 feet. In
any of such regions, however, malaria may drift up ravines to an
indefinite height. The agency of winds in transporting malaria for
considerable distances cannot be questioned. Lancisi, author of the
famous work "De Noxiis Paludum Effluviis," published in Rome in
1717, attributes to such influence the fact of the Roman Campagna
having become unhealthy after the removal of the sacred groves
exposed it to the currents of wind blowing from the Pontine Marshes.
In later years, Barat accounts in the same manner for an epidemic
of malarial disease which arose in 1869 on the island of Reunion,
believing the poison to have been transported by the wind from Mau
ritius, where such affections were then alarmingly prevalent. In this
instance none of the ordinary local causes could account for the out
break. In four months, over 4,000 cases occurred in a popula
tion of 23,000. Salvagnoli and other observers affirm that malarial
diseases increase in intensity, and penetrate farther inland on the
island of Sicily and in South Italy during the sirocco laden with
African miasm.

With regard to the question, " Can drinking-water act as a vehicle
for the introduction of malaria into the animal system ? " a priori it
seems reasonable to suppose that such may be the case. If malaria,
be it a gaseous substance or an accumulation of minute organisms,
cannot pollute water, it differs essentially from other materials of
similar form with which we are better acquainted. But, in fact, we
have positive proof that malarial fevers may be due to drinking im
pure water. Mr. Bettington, of the Madras Civil Service, states that
in that country it is notorious that the water may produce miasmatic
fever and affections of the spleen. He mentions villages placed under
similar conditions as to marsh-air, in some of which fevers are preva
lent and in others not the difference resulting from the former drink
ing marsh-water and the latter pure water. In one village there were
two sources of supply a tank fed by surface and marsh water, and a
pure spring; only those who used the tank-water contracted fever.
The celebrated instance related by Boudin is still more conclusive on
this point. In ] 834 there returned to Marseilles from Bona in the ship
Argo 120 soldiers, of whom 103 were seized with various forms of ma
larial fever after drinking marsh-water taken on board at Bona. On
the other hand, the sailors of the same vessel, who had pure water, and
780 men embarked on two other vessels, remained well. The few sol
diers on the Argo not attacked had purchased their drinking-water
from the sailors. Against such positive evidence as this the state
ment of Finke that in Hungary and Holland marsh-water is drunk with
out injury is of little value.

424 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Now, a number of careful investigations have been made of the
constituents of miasmatic marshes in various parts of the world, with
the following results : They contain from thirty to thirty-five per
cent, of vegetable organic matter. This consists of humic, ulmic,
cremic, and apocremic acids, all substances requiring renewed chemical
investigation. Various minute vegetable algoid forms are revealed
by microscopic examination bacteria, vibriones, and microzymes. But
all these so-called impurities are found in nearly every running stream
and in many harmless well-waters, and to condemn water on account
of their presence would be really to reject all waters, even rain, in
which minute algoid vesicles (protococci) are often found. Even
distilled water may contain bacteria and vibriones. Although, there
fore, admitting that water may be contaminated by the presence of
malaria, it by no means follows that this poisonous ingredient has any
relation to the organic impurities mentioned, or that the latter are in
any way injurious, but we should none the less be cautious as to the
source of our drinking-water.

The stratum of air overlying typical malarial marshes has also
been examined with particular care. It has been found to contain an
excess of carbonic acid watery vapor in large quantity often car-
buretted hydrogen, and occasionally free hydrogen, ammonia, and
phosphuretted hydrogen. If the marsh contains sulphates, sulphu
retted hydrogen is present. Its organic matter blackens sulphuric
acid gives a reddish color to nitrate of silver has a flocculent
appearance, a peculiar odor, and affords evidence of ammonia. The
amount in Becchi s analysis was .000118 grain in each cubic foot
of air. Ozone had no effect upon it. Besides this organic material,
various vegetable and animal matters are arrested when the marsh-air
is drawn through water or sulphuric acid debris of plants, infusoria,
insects, and even small Crustacea. Dr. Balestra has described spores
and sporangia of a little algoid plant in the air of the Pontine Marshes.
Lemaire and Gratiolet, in 1864, found in the air of one of the most
unhealthy marshes of Sologne spherical, ovoid, and fusiform spores and
a large number of pale cells, products, no doubt, of vegetable putrefac
tion. It has been supposed, by Schonbein and others, that ozone is
deficient in marsh-air ; that the quantity of ozone in the atmosphere
and the prevalence of malarial diseases have an inverse proportion ;
and that ozone, by virtue of its supposed power of destroying organic
matters in the air, is an antidote to miasm. There is, however, no
evidence at all that ozone and malaria are antagonistic, or bear to
each other any relation whatever. These various examinations, though
interesting, bring us no nearer to a solution of the question, What is
the nature of malaria f All of the many substances and forms thus
far observed in malarial localities may be found equally in districts
perfectly salubrious.

That it gains access to the system principally through the respira-

MALARIA. 425

tory organs is quite certain. What we really do know of it has refer
ence more particularly to its mode of action. It is most dangerous
when the sun is down, and it seems almost inert during the day. It
appears providential that the same agency which is so potent in its
production should be the principal instrument of its destruction. It
loves the ground, where in many regions it is so concentrated and
deadly as to destroy the incautious sleeper on the earth almost as
quickly as the most noxious gas. Hence it is generally regarded as
having a specific gravity heavier than that of air, but this is by no
means certain. It is doubtless rendered heavy by combining with
night-fogs and dews, but upon their being dissipated by the sun it
rises into the air and probably becomes innocuous by wide diffusion
and dilution. It is intercepted by impediments, such as walls arid
groves of leafy trees, which obstruct the winds that bear it. Perhaps
the latter also neutralize it by absorption. It is likewise neutralized
and probably absorbed in passing over a considerable body of water
especially salt-water. The distance necessary to effect this result
naturally varies with circumstances force of winds, concentration,
intensity, and abundance of the poison itself. According to Blane, in
the channel between Beveland and Walcheren, 3,000 feet of water
rendered it inert. In China, three-quarters of a mile, and in the West
Indies, one mile, have been required to be effectual.

Recognizing the facts mentioned, the precautions to be observed
against malaria are quite obvious. In built-up cities we are protected
by pavements and sewers to a great extent, and probably also by the
character of the atmosphere, which is artificially warmed by radiation
at night, and impregnated with gases which, though injurious in other
ways, are antagonistic to malarial emanations. But in malarial sub
urban and country districts it is otherwise. There certain precautions
are necessary. If possible, elevation of a dwelling-place, at least 500
feet above the source of the miasm, is to be recommended in temperate
climates, and from 1,500 to 2,000 feet in the tropics. If this be not
practicable, thorough subsoil drainage, filling up of low and moist
grounds, covering the earth with closely-cut herbage, belts of um
brageous trees interposed between the dwelling and the point of dan
ger, but at a sufficient distance to permit free ventilation, and the
access of sunlight ; doors and windows opening principally away from
the malarial quarter; the house, if possible, to be raised on pillars or
arches a few feet above the ground, otherwise a sub-cellar thoroughly
cemented all these are measures of primary importance. The sleep
ing-apartments should not be below the second story, and should bo
provided with open fireplaces in which on damp or chilly nights a
little fire may be kindled. Exposure to the open air after sunset, or
until several hours after sunrise, should be avoided. As whatever
tends to lower the vital powers predisposes the individual to malarial
invasion, personal hygiene is indispensable. It should of course be

426 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

dictated by common-sense, with the object of establishing and main
taining, in the words of the old maxim of the sanitarian, mens sana
in corpore sano.

KOCK-STKUCTUKE.

BY EEV. J. MAGENS MELLO, M. A., F. G. S.

study of rock-structure is one of great interest to the geolo-
-J- gist, and not only does it teach him the various materials of
which any particular rock is built up, but it will often lead him to the
knowledge of wonderful facts relating to its origin and past history,
and will enable him to trace some of the many changes to which it
may have been subjected during the lapse of time.

I propose to illustrate this by taking some familiar specimen and
showing the ways in which we may investigate its nature and history.

Suppose we take a piece of granite and see what we may learn
about it. There are few persons but are acquainted with this rock
in some one or more of the forms in which it is found. Our public
buildings often present us with splendid illustrations of granite,
sometimes roughly hewed, as it has come from the quarry; in other
cases highly polished. We have seen the fine gray stones from Aber
deen, or the beautiful red ones from Peterhead and elsewhere. Now,
when we begin to examine a piece of one of these granites, we see at
once that it is not an homogeneous stone such, for instance, as is a
bit of flint but that it is built up of various dissimilar-looking mate
rials; and we may notice, moreover, that one or more of those mate
rials is crystalline, that it is shaped in some regular geometrical form.
We shall probably be struck with certain whitish or flesh-colored
crystals, more conspicuously prominent than the other substances of
which the specimen is composed. With some care we may be able
to make out in part the form of these crystals, and perhaps to meas
ure one or more of their angles ; then, too, we shall notice that these
crystals are apparently imbedded in a more glassy-looking substance
of a clear and grayish color, and here and there we shall observe
some bright spangles of a thin flaky mineral. We shall thus have
seen the three principal minerals of which typical granite rock is
composed; the larger opaque crystals, whether white or pink, are
feldspar, the glassy mineral is quartz, and the little glittering spangles
are mica. We may next proceed to a more detailed examination of
each of these in turn. We will first ask the chemist what he can tell
us of their composition. The chemist is not satisfied with merely
knowing that a certain mineral occurring in certain definite crystal
line or other forms is quartz, another feldspar, and so on ; but he asks
further : " What is this quartz ? Is it a simple body, or is it, simple as

R CK-STR UCTURE.

427

it may appear to sight, a compound of two or more elements ? " He
takes various specimens of quartz, some perhaps from the granite, others
from some other rocks, and subjects them to the analytical processes
of the laboratory : the result is, that he finds all quartz, no matter
what its color may be, whether white or pink or black, or pure and
colorless as glass, to be a compound of the metalloid silicon and the
gas oxygen ; in other words, that it is an oxide of silicon, to which
he assigns the name silica. By a series of analyses he is able to cor
relate the quartz of the granite with all other forms, and they are
many in which this mineral occurs. The flint of the chalk, the white

FIG. 1. SECTION OP GRANITE FROM CORNWALL (POLARIZED), MAGNIFIED 26 DIAMETERS.

veins so often met with in the older slaty rocks, the agates picked up
on the sea-shore and elsewhere, the beautiful crystals known as cairn
gorms, amethysts, and others, are all found to be but varying forms
of the same substance, colored sometimes by adventitious matter, as
iron, etc. ; and he finds, too, that the exquisite skeletons of some of
the sponges, the delicate valves of the Diatomacece and other minute
specimens of organic life, consist of this very same silica, which is
indeed one of the most important compounds entering into the struct
ure of the earth s crust. Suppose the student next picks out one of
the feldspar-crystals : this on analysis will be, as was the quartz, found
to be also a combination ; in it he will also find silica, but the silica
in this instance is found to be combined with the metals aluminium
and potassium in fact, is a double silicate of alumina and potash.
There are many varieties of feldspar: some of them differ from that
most common in granite, which is called plagioclase, in containing
lime or soda instead of potash ; these are also distinguished from the
orthoclastic series by their crystalline structure, which will afford, as
we shall see, a ready method for their recognition, when they are

428

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

microscopically examined. When the granite rocks become decom
posed, as they often do in Cornwall and elsewhere, through the wear
and tear of the weather, we frequently find the disintegrated mate
rials so separated that the silicate of alumina of the feldspar forms
thick deposits of the beautiful white clay known as kaolin, and which
is so valuable to the china-manufacturer.

The mica of granite is usually a variety called Muscovite, or potash
mica; this again on chemical analysis is found to contain, as did the
feldspar, silica, alumina, and potash, and also often some iron and man
ganese. There are several different sorts of mica, also, sometimes
found in granite, especially Biotite, the composition of which varies
from the above ; but all the micas may be known by their being found
in flattish crystals, which may be split up into an infinity of thin leaf
lets. Thus far our unaided eyesight and the help of the chemist have

FIG. 2. OKTHOCLASE FELDSPAR. Fio. 3. PLAGIOCLASE FELDSPAB.

shown us what granite is made of ; but we are now beginning to learn
that, would we know something of the real history of a rock, a far
minuter examination is needful, and geologists are rapidly learning
that they must turn to the microscope if they would receive answers
to many important questions, both as to the history and also as to the
composition of rocks. A marvelous light has been shed during the
past few years on rock-structure through this minute investigation,
especially with the aid of polarized light. The intricacies of the
closest-grained rocks have been disentangled, their component parts
distinguished from each other, and the very order and history of their
combination in the mass revealed. Now, when we examine our gran
ite beneath the microscope, which can be done by having thin slices
prepared, we shall learn something about it which we could hardly
hope to have discovered without this aid. There has been much spec
ulation as to the origin of granite, whether it is a plutonic that is,
an old volcanic rock or whether it is only a deposit from water con
solidated and altered during the lapse of long ages by heat and press
ure : the microscope will help us to the truth. When magnified and
examined with the polariscope, a thin section of granite is a very
beautiful object, and its different constituent parts stand revealed
with the greatest distinctness : we at once learn to see the crystals of

ROCK-STRUCTURE. 429

feldspar, somewhat opaque and cloudy as they usually are in granite,
but now and then clear and beautifully striped, and also the crystals
of mica, imbedded in the clear quartz, which will be at once known
by its bright clear colors and by the margin of rainbow-like tints
which border its patches. Ordinary orthoclase feldspar is usually some
what opaque and dirty-looking under the microscope, and by this it
may be distinguished from the clear, glassy sanidine which is fre
quently found in igneous rocks, and presents under the microscope,
when polarized, pure rich colors as well as sharply-defined crystals
similar in form to those of the common orthoclase. The orthoclastic
feldspars may be very readily distinguished from the plagioclastic by
their structure, as revealed by the polariscope ; the latter invariably
are seen to be striped with variously-colored bands, showing what is
called twin crystallization ; and the orthoclase, though often forming
twins on a larger scale, does not present the minutely-banded appear-

FIQ. 4. MICA (BioTiTE).

ance of the plagioclastic feldspars. The mica in the granite section
will not be difficult to recognize, especially if Biotite ; often we shall
observe it as forming fairly-shaped hexagonal crystals, and the polar
iscope will also help us to know it by its thinly-laminated structure,
giving rise to fine parallel striae on the surface of its crystals. Its
colors, also, when polarized will be duller than those of the quartz,
for which it might sometimes be mistaken at first sight, should it be a
light-colored mica ; and then, again, it will frequently be found that
when the prisms of the polariscope are crossed the mica becomes per
fectly opaque, its sections having been formed across the optical axis.
But let us now look at the quartz. We shall observe that this quartz
is generally not crystallized in definite forms, as are the feldspar and
the mica ; it appears as a matrix which has been at some time or other
soft and so is penetrated by the other crystals, the interspaces of
which it fills up : this shows us at once that it must have been solidi
fied after them, and so was unable to assume its regular forms. This
is a very remarkable fact, and helps us toward the secret of the forma
tion of the granite. We know that quartz requires a higher tempera
ture to melt it than does either the feldspar or the mica, and so, had
the granite been formed as are regular volcanic rocks in the ordinary
way of igneous fusion, we should certainly have found that the quartz
would have crystallized before either the feldspar or the mica, and it

430 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

would have been seen in definite crystalline form, and its crystals
would have interfered with and penetrated those of the other mineral
constituents of the rock. Again, if we look carefully at the quartz
with a moderately high power, we shall see in it certain small cavities,
and some of these will be seen to contain a certain amount of liquid,
and also an air-bubble, which will move as the specimen is moved.
This liquid has been proved to be water, and from the fact of its not
entirely filling the cavity we learn that a reduction of temperature
has taken place since the water was first caught up by the quartz,
causing the contents of the cavities to contract. Sometimes we shall
find other cavities, which, instead of containing water, contain small
crystals, or even air only. Now, from all these facts it appears tol
erably certain that the granite was formed under peculiar circum
stances ; it has never been such a purely molten rock as is the lava
of a volcano, which is poured out from its crater to the light of day.
We gather that it was rather formed at great depths in the earth,
where it may have been partially melted, partially subjected to the
action both of water and of steam, charged with various mineral sub
stances, and subjected to enormous pressure. What the original con
dition of granite was we cannot tell ; some have gone so far as to
think that it may have been that of a sedimentary rock, which has
been metamorphosed by the forces just alluded to. But, whatever
the primary state of granite may have been, its present condition
shows it to belong undoubtedly to the igneous class of rocks, but to
have been formed under conditions differing from those which have
given rise to lavas reaching the surface. As far as can be gathered,
the granite rocks, as such, have never seen the light of day until ex
posed by denudation, etc. ; their origin was deep in the central por
tions of ancient volcanoes, where, by partial melting and slow cooling,
under intense pressure, and in the presence of some water, the va
rious minerals came together and crystallized into granite. Science-

THE APOTHEOSIS OF STEAM.

BY JOHN S. HITTELL.

IN a newspaper notice of a late book the critic complains that it is
" an apotheosis of steam," an offense which he does not explain,
but he conveys the inference that the book mentioned attributes to
steam and to its age too much influence and importance in human
life. He raises the question whether steam deserves apotheosis, and I
answer affirmatively, undertaking to prove that, with its associate
forces, it has conferred upon mankind benefits of vast, and, if consid
ered absolutely, of unparalleled value ; that the period since Watt s

THE APOTHEOSIS OF STEAM. 431

machine came into use deserves to rank as the leading era in history ;
and that it demands from us more study than either of the preceding
ages of the press, iron, bronze, or stone, though they lasted much
longer and have heretofore occupied much greater prominence in his
torical study.

Modern civilization belongs to the Euraryan the Teutonic, Latin,
Celtic, Slavonic and Greek nationalities which migrated from Asia
in the remote past to Europe, whence some of them passed over to
other parts of the world, carrying their culture, their energy, and
their high capacity for further progress, with them. The Asiatics, the
Africans, and the aboriginal Americans and Polynesians, have for the
last four centuries acted a part so subordinate in the great drama of
human advancement, that they are like the shadows of a picture ; they
serve mainly as contrasts to bring out the brilliancy of the forms and
colors in the light.

The age of steam the period between 1770 and 1875 has trebled
the Euraryans who have given us the enlightenment of the present,
and are the hope of the future. Their number a hundred years ago
was probably 120,000,000; though Gibbon, in the sixty-second note
to the second chapter of his " Decline and Fall," following Voltaire,
who was a respectable authority, said that Europe then had 107,000,000
inhabitants, including twenty-two in Germany, twenty in France,
twelve in Russia, ten in Italy, eight in Spain and Portugal, eight in
Great Britain and Ireland, seven in Scandinavia, as many more in
Turkey, and four each in Hungary and the Netherlands. The facilities
for getting information then were not so good as now, and, though
Gibbon was very careful in his statements, yet he probably made a
mistake in his figures. Kolb, in his "Hand-book of Comparative
Statistics " (German, and not translated), tells us that France had
22,500,000 in 1770, Spain nine and one-third in 1768, Germany thirty
in 1786, and Italy twenty in 1812; and Levi, in his "History of
British Commerpe," credits Great Britain and Ireland with ten in
1763. After excluding certain nationalities not of Aryan blood in
Europe, and adding the British and Spanish colonists in America, we
may estimate the total number of Euraryans in 1770 at 120,000,000.
The present number is about 360,000,000, including three hundred
in Europe, and forty-eight in North America. This great increase,
far from being a necessary or natural result of the lapse of time,
is entirely unexampled. The Roman Empire had about 120,000,000
inhabitants, and the same territory after a lapse of eighteen cen
turies had no more. Egypt 3,000 years ago, and Peru and Mexico
before the Spanish conquest, had more inhabitants than now. As a
general rule, population has been nearly stationary; century after
century has passed, with little difference until we come within the
magic influence of steam, and then suddenly the Euraryan race, ac
quiring the power to draw larger crops from the soil, to distribute

432 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them more evenly, thus preventing disease and famine, and to visit new
and more profitable fields of industry, multiplies so as to keep pace
with the increased supplies of food and with the demand for labor.

Education, like civilization, of which it is a large part, belongs
mainly to the Euraryans. It is the misfortune of the Chinese and
Japanese that more time is required to learn their hieroglyphical
writing than to get a liberal education in a Teutonic or Latin tongue.
The Arabs and Hindoos have alphabets, but they have no eminent
schools, no rich literature, no great city in which their race has reached
a leading place in culture. The possession of the alphabet, with the
books, the schools, the wealth, and the centres of civilization, in the
temperate zone, where man has the strongest stimulus and the most
energy for the exercise of his physical and mental faculties, gives to
Euraryans the mastery of the fortunes, and almost a monopoly of the
interest of earth. Progress depends not so much on the number of
those who come within its nominal domain, as of those who are under
its full influence and appreciate its value; that is, the educated people.
They have increased ninefold since 1770. In that year not one out
of a hundred adults in Russia and Turkey, not ten in Catholic Europe,
not thirty in Protestant Europe, could read. Now, about eighty-five .
out of a hundred in the Teutonic, and fifty in the Latin nations, can
read, or nearly 200,000,000 in all. The gain in education is, however,
much more than that indicated in the mere increase of those able to
read. The quality of the learning has improved as much as its quan
tity. In the middle of the last century, there were few books worth
reading in any modern language. A man was not accounted well
educated unless he were familiar with Latin. So scanty were the lit
eratures of French, English and German, that they were considered
unworthy of the notice of scholars. The student had to read Greek
and Latin to learn " the humanities." There was no science save dry
astronomy and mathematics, little history, little philosophy, little
poetry. The chemistry, geology, and physiology, which form the bulk
of our positive knowledge, are products of the steam age ; and, instead
of being dry and remote from the business and associations of practi
cal life, they come home to us every day, guarding our health, assist
ing our industry, and influencing our opinions. Ancient Egypt, As
syria, and Hindostan, and the prehistoric man in Europe, have been
made known to us by late research, and even our histories of Greece
and Rome have required rewriting, to adapt them to the advance of
our knowledge and philosophy.

A large majority of our most instructive books are the product of
the last hundred years. Of the works sold in the book-stores or loaned
by the public libraries, at least ninety-five per cent, are new. Nearly
all our prose romance, and most of our poetry, history, and miscellane
ous literature, belong to the steam age in origin and spirit. We now
write ten times as many books, and publish fifty times as many vol-

THE APOTHEOSIS OF STEAM. 433

umes annually, as they did in the last century. The United States
turns out 2,000 and Great Britain 4,000 new books every year, and the
other Euraryan nations probably bring the total figure up to 15,000;
whereas, before the middle of the last century, the number was prob
ably not more than 1,500. Besides the books, we have now 7,000 news
papers which are new, and in the aggregate furnish as much material
for reading, and contribute nearly as much to education, as the books.

The commerce of the world has been revolutionized in the age of
steam. Many obstacles which stood in the way of its development in
1770 have now been removed. National animosities, sectarian pas
sions, popular ignorance, despotic governments, the division of one
nationality into numerous independent states, and the established
policies of conquest, balance of power, sectarian intolerance, and trade-
restriction bred frequent wars, and destroyed confidence in the dura
tion of any peace. Hostilities were waged with little regard for the
property or persons of non-combatants ; and plunder and devastation
were among the common accompaniments of invasion, and were recog
nized as customary rights of the invaders. The uncertainty of enjoy
ing accumulated wealth deprived the people of zeal for labor or
economy. But now there has been a vast change for the better, and
commerce and finance have made wonderful advances. International
and national traffic have risen to proportions which far surpass the
wildest visions of past ages.

In the middle of the last century a turnpike, covered with gravel
or broken stone, was a rarity even in the neighborhood of the great
capitals ; and for every mile of such road, and for every stage running
regularly to carry passengers then, there are now a thousand. Trav
elers were few, and usually went on horseback. Not a hundred years
have elapsed since the owners of riding-horses petitioned the English
Parliament to forbid the establishment of a stage-line which had lately
been started, and was ruining their business. In 1763 one stage
left London for Edinburgh each month, taking nearly two weeks to
make the trip each way; and in 1810 only two hundred and twenty
travelers entered Paris by stage in an average day. The increase
has exceeded a thousand-fold. England did not commence building-
canals till 1760, and in the mean time not less than 6,000 miles have
been built by the Euraryans, at a cost of not less than $500,000,000.
The shipping of Christendom has risen from 1,500,000 to 15,000,000
tons, and a third of the increase is in steamers, which make three trips
for one by a sailing-vessel. They not only carry three times as much
freight per ton as the sailers, but they take many perishable articles
which could not go by the slower navigation, and were therefore not
produced, or were wasted. There has been a vast increase in the con
struction and in the number of freight-wagons for common roads;
and the railroads, with an aggregate length of 140,000 miles, and a
cost of $2,000,000,000, are new. The freight which cost thirty cents a
VOL. ix. 28

434 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ton from London to Manchester in 1825 now costs one cent. Count
ing the macadamized roads, the new and improved wagons, the canals,
the river and ocean steamboats, the increase in the number, and the
improvements in the size, pattern, rigging, and speed of sailing-vessels,
and the railroads, there is no exaggeration in saying that the facilities
for domestic and foreign commerce have increased one hundred-fold.

And then the gain in the materials for commerce has been immense.
Steam-engines furnish a power estimated to be equal to that oi
300,000,000 working-men, and the saving of labor by other machines
is probably not less. The production of cloth and the manufacture
of iron have been revolutionized, and the annual consumption of the
most useful of metals has increased from 200,000 to 12,000,000 tons.
The industrial arts generally have made so much progress, that no ex
tensive branch of business is now conducted as it was in the middle
of the last century. Our houses, our tools, our clothing, our food, our
trades, and our professions, are different in many important points.
The farmers have thrown aside the wooden plough, the sickle, and the
flail, which were their chief implements in 1750. The wooden mould-
board was excellent as compared with the barbaric plough which had
no mould-board, and did not throw a furrow to one side, but merely
scratched the ground, making a ridge on each side of the plough-point.
While oak was the material, the farmer usually hewed or chopped out
his own board, and fastened it on his plough ; but both the shape and
the adjustment were bad, and the surface, from the nature of the
material, would never " scour " well in the moist earth. I accord to
Scotland, on what appears to be a preponderance of evidence, the
credit of producing the first iron mould-board, though the claim is con
tested by the United States, where the invention was first generally
appreciated, and perfected by various small improvements. The
superiority of the iron plough in form, adjustment, and surface, made
a vast saving in friction ; the furrow was turned over more regularly ;
the weeds were killed more thoroughly; the pulverization was better;
and the working capacity of the ploughman and the productive ca
pacity of the soil were each nearly if not quite doubled ; so that now,
France, with a smaller number of men engaged in the business, yields
three times as much wheat at an average harvest as it did about 1770.
Since the farmers are the largest class of producers, and the basis of
national prosperity, and since ploughing is the most important part of
their labor, the invention of the iron mould-board deserves to be con
sidered one of the greatest contributions to modern civilization, rank
ing next to the steam-engine and to movable type, in its influence on
the general condition of mankind.

The sickle was superseded by the cradle, with which the farmer
could cut four times as much, and that by the reaping-machine, with
which a man can cut five times as much, as with the cradle. The
scythe gave way to the mowing-machine, and the flail to the thrash-

THE APOTHEOSIS OF STEAM. 435

ing-machine. The steam-plough has not yet been introduced exten
sively, but it will doubtless make another revolution. The progress
made in the drainage of land by pipes, in the drying of fruits and
vegetables by hot air, and the canning of fruits and meats, all are im
portant aids to agricultural industry. The breeds of farm-animals
have been greatly improved. The Ayrshire, the Durham, the Jersey,
and the Devon, the Cotswold, the Southdown and the Cheviot, the
Chester and the Berkshire, the Clydesdale and the American trotter,
have been either started, or for the first time introduced into extensive
use, in the steam age.

The miner has adopted dynamite and other explosives stronger
and safer to handle than the charcoal-powder, and can, at the same
time, hold and strike the small drill, whereas the large drill needed
for the weaker powder required one man to hold the drill while an
other was striking. Steam not only hoists the ore and pumps the
water, but sometimes drills the rock. The method of stoping toward
the shaft has been introduced. More important still is the general
education of the superintendents in engineering and chemistry. The
processes of separating gold and silver from the earthy and rocky mat
ter which hold them in a state of nature are new in their principal
features.

All the prominent mechanical occupations have felt the influences
of our progressive time, and many have been added to the list.
Nearly every labor-saving machine has called a new trade into ex
istence. The builders of stationary engines, of locomotives and of rail
way-cars, the boiler-maker, the steam, the railway, and the gas en
gineers, the gas-fitter, and the manufacturer of chemicals, are a few
out of many. Planing and moulding machines, and circular and band
saws, wire ropes and iron bridges, " balloon " house-frames, fastened
together with nails, and without the old style of mortices and tenons,
and machines to make cut-nails and wood screws, have had much in
fluence in mechanical business. If steel pens had not come into use
as a substitute for quills, the supply of which would have been entire
ly inadequate to the scribbling demands of the present day, education
might have felt a check. The steam-press, the turbine-wheel, the
type-casting machine, lamp-chimneys which secure better light with
less smoke, kerosene-lamps, cleanly stearine-candles instead of the
dirty tallow, are all to be credited to the steam age.

The railroads and the steamboats have covered the land, the
rivers, and the lakes of Europe and North America with the beneficent
network of their routes, and have given a new life to commerce. The
exports of Great Britain in 1770 amounted to $65,000,000, and in 1870
to $1,220,000,000. In the same period the measurement of the ship
ping owned in that country increased from 550,000 to 7,100,000 tons,
and that of the shipping entered in a year from 890,000 to 18,000,000
tons. The amount insured rose from $850,000,000 to $6,800,000,000.

436 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The greater part of the increase in commerce since 17*70 has occurred
within the last fifteen years, and the annual gain now is greater than
the total traffic in the middle of the last century, and tenfold greater
than the traffic at any time before the discovery of America.

The advance in the other nations of Europe generally has not been
so rapid as in England, yet it is remarkable. The exports of France
rose from $400,000,000 in 1840, to $700,000,000 in 1869 ; those of Aus
tria from $40,000,000 in 1842, to $160,000,000 in 1869; and those of
Russia from $50,000,000 in 1851, to $125,000,000 in 1869. In the
United States the progress has been more rapid than in England.
The total aggregate value of the exports and imports (excluding
the precious metals) of the fifteen leading commercial nations was
$6,000,000,000 in 1860, and $9,500,000,000 in 1870. These figures are
astounding, and nothing but figures can give us a correct idea of the
overwhelming magnitude of the present, and the relative insignificance
of the past. And if now commerce gains nine per cent, annually,
whereas before the steam age it did not increase one per cent., shall
we not exalt the age of steam, which has brought the improvement ?
It is to be observed that the forces which have caused the wondrous
development, instead of having reached the culmination of their in
fluence, are only beginning to get full swing, and that the new com
merce has not yet had time to exert its power. Statesmen and people
do not yet comprehend the vastness of the commercial interests, nor
have the merchants and capitalists yet learned how to combine to
prevent the legislative follies of past ages. Commerce is destined to
be the great bond of peace between nations, and they will be com
pelled soon to organize a league to administer international justice,
and to protect the vast interests involved in their trade. They must
adopt new rules for their new circumstances. The policy which might
have been beneficial in a national point of view in 1700 would be
foolish now. "Commerce," as John Stuart Mill said, " first taught
nations to see with good-will the wealth and prosperity of one an
other. Before, the patriot, unless sufficiently advanced in culture to
feel the world his country, wished all countries weak and poor and
ill-governed, but his own." Now, he understands that the greater
their wealth and prosperity, the greater also will be that of his nation;
in the same manner as the individual merchant or mechanic thrives
better with rich than with poor neighbors and customers. But we
are told that the spirit of our age is bad ; it is too materialistic ; it is
hostile to sesthetical and spiritual influences ; it exalts money and ma
chinery. The meaning of this complaint is that its authors have not
been properly educated, and they find that the world is not in sym
pathy with them. They measure it by their ignorance and prejudice,
and conclude that it is wrong. In all ages such lamentations have
been heard about the progress of the most beneficent changes. The
discredit into which many of the old metaphysicians have fallen is

THE APOTHEOSIS OF STEAM. 437

chargeable in a great degree to our superior knowledge. We have
discovered that their premises were false, and of course we care
nothing for their conclusions. I assert that poetry, painting, sculp
ture, and architecture, never within an equal period produced so
many great works as since 1770, but I have not here the space to
argue that point.

I think the proof is sufficient that there has been an immense
change in human life for the better since the middle of the last cen
tury a change great enough to require the recognition of a new era
in culture. The preponderant influence and characteristic of our
time suggest that it should be called "The Age of Steam ; " and this,
like the universally-accepted stone, bronze, and iron ages, suggests
that industry is the most important feature of culture. No other name
has been offered, no other force can compete with it. The improve
ments in printing and in the manufacture of iron and cloth, great as
they are, are yet dependent for much of their value on the steam which
drives the press, the rolling-mill, and the loom, and transports their
products to market. The electric telegraph is inferior to either of
these three : Watt s invention remains master of the field. It has
made a new era, which ranks with that of bronze, and the two sur
pass in importance all the others.

When savages learned to make bronze, their former weapons and
tools of stone and bone were thrown away. The flint knife, which lost
its brittle edge at the first cut into wood, was replaced by tough
metal which could be sharpened anew every day, and would last for
years. The clumsy obsidian spear-head, that flew to pieces at the first
throw, was superseded by another of better shape and more durable
material, fitted for the wear of centuries. The savage armed with
flint weapons was no match for the man of bronze, and thus the latter
could take the most fertile valleys and reduce the former to slavery.
The possession of metallic hoes, spades, and sickles, was the beginning
of systematic agriculture. The soil began to produce abundantly ;
the supply of food was larger and more constant; population became
dense ; buildings of cut stone were erected for temples, fortifications,
and granaries ; the accumulation of property became possible and
reputable; nations were organized and armies drilled. All these
changes were the necessary results of the discovery of the art of mak
ing bronze. Previously men were in the stone age, without durable
houses, without national government, without cities, without any ac
cumulation of property, division of labor, literature, or prospect of
progress.

The iron and printing ages made revolutions in society, but they
were far less important than those of bronze and steam. The bronze
revolution was the greater, looked at from a relative standpoint, but,
considered absolutely, it was small in comparison, and very slow in
progress, with the influence of steam. The ancient Egyptians asserted

438 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that their monarchy had stood without material change for 10,000
years. There is much reason for believing that their religion and
polity were about the same for at least 3,000 years, and for presum
ing that they must have been very slow in reaching that condition.
The farther we look back into history, the longer we find the intervals
between the permanent improvements of culture. The present age is
resplendent not less for the magnitude of its inventions and discoveries
than for the speed with which they have crowded upon one another s
heels, and have been carried round the world. No previous time
has approached ours in its achievements, and, if ever any force of
culture deserved apotheosis, it is steam.

ON THE BACKWARDNESS OF THE ANCIENTS IN
NATURAL SCIENCE.

BY CARL VON LITTEOW. 1

I CAN hardly be mistaken in holding that the ceremonies attending
the installation of a rector of our university chiefly concern the
students. Thus only can I account for the fact that on the one hand
the newly-installed officer is burdened with the unpleasant duty of
listening to a history of his own life, and, on the other, that he is re
quired to deliver an address whose sole purpose is to make known the
ground he occupies in science and in his teaching. His colleagues,
to whom he is indebted for his election, of course have no need to be
informed where he stands, while the students oftentimes have but
scant opportunity of knowing what manner of opinions are held by
him. Hence it is that my words are addressed first of all to you, my
young friends.

Those nations of antiquity which so long freely and unchallenged
have borne the title of " classical," owe to their mastery of form what
ever right they have to that honorable epithet. While we must re
gard our predecessors in culture as being the best patterns in all
that regards form, we may nevertheless of ourselves assert that in the
investigation of matter, and in the arts of making it subservient to
man, we in turn equally or even to a greater degree surpass the an
cients. This condition of things is indeed nothing but one phase of
the strife between the real and the ideal a strife which, fortunately
for mankind, is never altogether allayed. That in nearly every de
partment of art taking this term in its widest sense we are on the
whole the miserable Epigoni of the ancients, is universally admitted,

1 Inaugural Address on his installation as Rector of the University of Vienna. Trans
lated by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

BACKWARDNESS OF THE ANCIENTS. 439

X

and the causes of our inferiority are well enough understood. On the
contrary, the reasons of our own preeminence in the exact sciences are
by no means so generally known. Schiller, who, had he not been a
profound philosopher, would never have been the prince of poets that
he was, describes the realist as being characterized by a spirit of
" sober observation," and the idealist by a spirit of " restless specu
lation." " When we presume," says he, " by the mere force of reason
to determine anything about the outer*world, we do but trifle." How
ever obvious the meaning of this remark may at first appear, we shall
find, on closer consideration, that in fact the author not only ascribes
to the idealistic mind of antiquity an undue bent toward speculation,
but that furthermore he plainly denies to it the faculty of correct ob
servation. The entire justice of Schiller s remark, whether as taken
in its literal or in its implicative sense, is perhaps nowhere so patent
as in the province of astronomy.

Every one knows of the clear skies which canopy the homes of the
early civilizations Italy, Greece, Spain, Egypt, Arabia. The purity
of the atmosphere enjoyed by these regions is shown by the im
portance attached by the ancients to the knowledge of the rising and
setting of certain stars. In our countries astronomy must have been
precluded from taking the same direction by the fact that but rarely
do we see the stars near the horizon, to say nothing of seeing them on
the horizon, owing to the presence of haze, which in these regions
nearly always narrows the field of view. For this reason, had we
not the telescope, w r e should have been unable to attain to the com
paratively accurate knowledge possessed by the ancients with regard
to the movements of Mercury, a planet which is hardly visible from
our latitudes We inhabitants of Central Europe might easily, in
point of cloudy skies, be the rivals of the dwellers on the shores of the
Sea of Azof the Cimmerians of the ancients. It might therefore be
supposed that the starry heavens, as these ancestors would describe
them to us, must be in great part invisible to us, and far richer than
we have been able to see them in later times. We must the more
expect them to describe things hardly visible to us as our present
division of the northern heavens into constellations dates, as far
as its main features are concerned, from at least 2,000 years ago,
and the firmament formed an object of studious contemplation even
then. Add to this the fact that, as early as the year ISO B. c., Hip-
parchus began to draw up a complete catalogue of all the fixed stars;
and Claudius Ptolemaaus, 150 years later, took up this task anew.
Now the " Almagest," as Ptolemy s work is called by the Arabs, who
handed it down to us, includes 1,028 stars ; and even if, on the strength
of a remark made by the elder Pliny, who speaks of 1,600 observed
stars, we with faint probability grant that the " Almagest " does not
represent the complete labors of Hipparchus and Ptolemy, still even
the second figure is far less than we should have expected. Argelan-

440 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

der, at Bonn, sets down in his charts no less than 3,256 stars visible
to the naked eye; and Heis, whose eye indeed was possessed of an
abnormal power, seeing stars as points without rays, increased Ar-
gelander s list by 2,000 stars visible at Minister. Thus, not taking
into the account the no less than twenty more degrees of the heavens
visible from Alexandria than from Germany, the ancients noted
hardly one-half of the stars which were visible to them ! The defec-
tiveness of their observations can be more easily understood from the
fact that for instance they reckoned 474 stars of the fourth magnitude,
only 271 of the fifth, and finally only 49 of the sixth magnitude ;
whereas the fact is, that the number of stars increases so rapidly in
the order of magnitudes that each succeeding class embraces a much
larger number than all the classes that precede it. In our latitudes
Argelander makes out with the naked eye nineteen nebulas and star-
clusters, while Hipparchus mentions only two, and Ptolemy five, nei
ther of them noting such prominent objects as the nebula in Orion
and that in Andromeda. And such defective knowledge as this
of the open-lying heavens persisted long after the invention of the
telescope for full 1,500 years. Among the old astronomers the Per
sian, Abdalrahman-Al-Sufi, who lived in the tenth century, forms a
notable exception ; but he did not inspire his contemporaries or his
successors with his own ardor, or prompt them to add to his labors.

The same is to be said of the southern heavens. The Arabians,
surely, did not lack opportunity for acquiring a knowledge of many
of its constellations. Ever since the days of Bartolomeo Diaz, it was
a necessity for Europeans, on sea-voyages, to determine places by
southern constellations. Ptolemy was acquainted with only a few of
the principal stars of the antarctic hemisphere, and it was not till the
beginning of the seventeenth century that Theodor von Emden regu
larly divided these regions of the heavens into constellations. It re
mained for Herschel, in recent times, to determine a number of open
questions with regard to these southern constellations.

To account for this backwardness in the investigation of a subject
which certainly possessed at least as much interest for the ancients as
for ourselves, by declaring it to be the result of their superficiality,
were an injustice to the olden time, seeing that in other respects i$
commands our unconditional admiration for its arduous achievements.
That what they needed was to have their senses trained to this kind
of work, and that, although they had keen appreciation of art, they
never learned to look at things with the eye of the investigator of
Nature, will be better understood from a statement of what they
knew about individual celestial objects than of what they knew about
the entire firmament.

That well-known group of stars, the Pleiades, which in the Fall
adorns our eastern sky by night, serves well to show that in observing
the stars something else is required besides a clear atmosphere and

BACKWARDNESS OF THE ANCIENTS. 441

good eyesight. In a didactic poem by Aratus, written 270 years B. c.,
we have our earliest trustworthy account of Grecian astronomy.
There the Pleiades are called " irrranopoi " stars traveling in seven
paths though according to Aratus only six stars were visible. Some
300 years later Ovid writes

" Quse septem dici, sex tamen esse solent ; " 1

while Hipparchus, in his critique of Aratus, about 150 years before
Ovid, expressly says that in clear, moonless nights seven stars can be
actually made out. Now, Aratus lived in Macedonia, and Ovid appar
ently wrote his " Fasti" at Rome, giving the finishing touches to the
work on the southern shore of the Black Sea : thus both writers lived
beneath a very clear sky. The fact that Hipparchus labored at Rhodes,
a few degrees farther south, must not be supposed to account for his hav
ing seen one more star than the others, though the discrepancy between
the observers is all the more surprising as the group about which they
differed was of great importance for navigators in the then state of
nautical science, and was constantly under observation. This circum
stance, in fact, attracted the attention of the astronomers of the time,
but for centuries they sought in vain for the seventh star, and offered
all manner of curious explanations for its supposed disappearance, one
of which is worthy of special mention, viz. : that this seventh star had
moved over to the position of the middle star in the tail of Ursa Ma
jor, called by the Arabians Mizar, and that it was the little star now
commonly known as the Postilion and which stands close to Mizar.
The scholia to Homer cling to this idea of the disappearance of the
seventh star. Not until the thirteenth century do we find a correct de
scription of the Pleiades, in a work by the Persian astronomer Kaz-
vini, who apparently borrowed it from Sufi. " There are," says Kaz-
vini, " six stars (in the Pleiades) and in the midst of them a number
of dark (i. e., faint) stars;" but his observations received no attention
from subsequent astronomers. In vain, too, was the observation even
of such a man as Maestlin, Kepler s preceptor, who distinguished no
less than fourteen stars in the Pleiades group. Not till after the in
vention of the telescope could Sir Christopher Heyden, in 1610, write
as follows, showing the power of the new instrument : " I see with my
telescope eleven stars in the Pleiades, though never before were more
than seven distinguished." But how stands the case to-day ? At
present they who discern these eleven stars with the naked eye are
considered anything but prodigies; indeed, I am acquainted with
persons not professional astronomers, but laymen who can make
out from fourteen to sixteen stars in this group. But then we are the
descendants of generations of men who from infancy were taught to
put their organs of sense to the sternest test, and to take note even
of the faintest sense-impressions ; our eyes have been schooled, and
1 Said to be seven, though they number only six.

442 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in this special instance of the Pleiades they are not so much dazzled
by the brighter stars as guided by them to the stars in their neigh
borhood, for, in fact, more than one half of the fourteen stars are of
a magnitude far below the commonly-accepted limit of vision for the
naked eye. We have learned to observe, to choose favorable condi
tions, to know what is a really clear atmosphere; we know that small
stars in the vicinity of bright ones are far more readily descried in
twilight than in the depth of night, the brightness of the larger stars
in the latter case obscuring the smaller. Hipparclms errs in saying
that moonlight is a hinderance to such observation: keen eyes may,
with a bright full moon shining, count as many as fifteen stars in the
Pleiades.

Another point of considerable interest we note in this instructive
example. The fact that the Postilion, the Alcor of the Arabians, was
taken to be the lost seventh star of the Pleiades, further shows that
Alcor, though a star of the fifth magnitude, and easily discernible,
had not been noted by previous astronomers, else it could never have
passed, at the beginning of our era, as a new star, then first registered.
And indeed the Arabian astronomers, one thousand years later, call
this star "The Forgotten," plainly because it had not been noticed
previously.

We have a like instance in the star Alpha in Capricorn. Mankind
had to observe this star for thousands of years before they saw, what
any child may see when its attention is directed to the object, that
here are two stars (one of the third and one of the fourth magnitude)
so close together as to coalesce into one when hastily viewed. Again,
it was the Arabians who noted this circumstance. Still, this did not
avail to establish the true nature of a Capricorni. Ulugh Beigh, in
the fifteenth century, and Tycho Brahe, in the beginning of the seven
teenth, in their famous "Catalogues of the Stars," take no notice of
it, and it was not till one hundred years later that Hevelius formally
entered the companion-star in his list. We cite two or three further
instances to show how the idealistic bias of the ancients, which cul
minated in Aristotelism, has almost down to our own times diverted
men from simple but correct views of the world of sense.

The amazing progress of observational astronomy during the last
two centuries is in great measure due to the happy accident of our
hemisphere containing a bright polar star. Sundry investigations
can be made only with regard to stars near the pole, and all the more
easily, of course, and with smaller instruments, the larger the star
happens to be. The importance of this star impressed itself upon
men in former times, it being employed for correcting the compass.
And yet even Columbus was not clear whether Polaris is situated at
the north-pole, or only near to it, though it must be observed that in
his day its distance from the pole amouted to more than three degrees,
i. e., about six diameters of the full moon, and that hence it could

BACKWARDNESS OF THE AXCIEXTS. 443

not altogether escape his means of observation. "It appears," he
cautiously observes, "as if the pole-star had a motion [round the
pole] like the rest of the stars."

Again, is it not amazing that for thousands of years mankind
should have been in presence of so frequent a phenomenon as the
zodiacal light a phenomenon which in southern latitudes is spe
cially impressive without considering it to be worthy of mention,
or rather, let us say, without seeing it, until Childrey, in the middle
of the seventeenth century, discovered it, if we may so speak ? So,
too, may it excite our wonder, to think that the earliest definite men
tion of the noteworthy phenomena (easily visible with the naked eye)
attending a total eclipse of the sun dates only from the year 1706,
that is to say, a period of time full one hundred years subsequent to
the invention of the telescope.

Thus the ancients were deficient in even the most elementary
powers of observation. The simple but truthful noting of what is
perceived by the senses is the prerogative of our time. But what
of the restless spirit of speculation with which Schiller taxes the
ancients ?

Here permit me to recall anew to your memories, by an instance
taken from the history of astronomy, thoughts which oftentimes,
perhaps, have occurred to us all. Plutarch s dialogue on "The
Visage that is seen in the Moon s Disk " has ever been regarded as
containing the sum and substance of all man s notions and knowledge
of our satellite down to the period when it was written. The very
title is provocative of mirth to us, the children of the modern time.
The Visage in the Moon! Nowadays it only suggests to the poet
and the artist satirical ideas : in olden times it was the starting-point
of profound meditations, which were held not to be unworthy of
being attributed to the most famous philosophers and mathematicians
of the day. The author first in all earnestness demonstrates the ab
surdity of the opinion which asserts the figure appearing in the moon
to be nothing else but an optical illusion arising from the visual sense
being dazzled by the brightness of the moon s disk. Next we have a
lengthy refutation of another opinion, which says that the visage in
the moon is the reflection of our ocean. Among other reasons given
to show the erroneousness of this opinion is this, that there is only
one ocean, and that, if the visage in the moon were a reflection of it,
then the ocean must be made up of parts separated from one another
by isthmuses and continents ! The third opinion combated by Plu
tarch is to the effect that the moon is a mixture of air and of a mild
kind of fire ; as sometimes during a perfect calm the surface of a body
of water becomes ruffled a thing itself to be demonstrated so too
does the air assume a blackish color : thus is explained the appearance
as of a human face in the moon. The hypothesis of the Stoics, who
affirmed the moon to be a globe of fire, on the surface of which rests

444 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the atmosphere, is rejected on the ground that in that case the moon
would need some matter whereon to rest, and from which it might
derive fuel for its fire. We are informed that, according to Pindar,
the earth is propped up all round by pillars with bases of adamant,
whereas, according to the Stoics, she has no need of supports, being
situate in the centre of the universe toward which all things tend.
This last opinion is declared to be untenable, because the earth, whose
surface is so broken with elevations and depressions, must then be con
sidered as spherical, and that would imply the existence of antipodes
clambering up and down the earth s sides like lizards. Coming back
to the principal question under discussion, the solitary interlocutor in
this dialogue maintains that, even granting the impossibility of pon
derous, earth-like bodies moving in the heavens, it does not follow
thence that the moon is not another earth, but only that it^happens
to be in a region to which it does not by its nature belong. Man, for
example, in like manner has his ponderous, earth-like parts in the
upper region of his body, in the head, and the warm, fire-like parts in
the lower; of his teeth some are directed downward, others upward,
but in neither is there anything contrary to Nature. The moon, situ
ate between the sun and the earth, as the liver or other soft viscus
lies between the heart and the stomach, transmits heat from the
upper regions to us, at the same time dissipating the mists which rise
from the earth, purifying and attenuating them by the action of her
own heat. Considered as an earth, the moon is a splendid body ; as a
star it would be a shame to its class ; for of all the innumerable heav
enly bodies to quote the author literally she is the only one that
needs another s light ! When the sun goes down he is hidden from
us by the earth ; in an eclipse, on the contrary, by the moon. Hence
the earth, owing to its great size, covers the sun entirely, as long as
the night endures, while the moon sometimes conceals him totally,
but only for a short time. The moon, therefore, is a body like our
earth; and inasmuch as it contains nothing that is foul, and enjoys
the purest light of heaven, and is filled with genial fires which do not
consume like the fires of earth, the moon must contain the most de
lightful savannas, flames like mountains of light, empurpled zones,
and abundance of gold and silver ; all this accounts for the visage
in the moon s disk ! The objection that the spots on the moon are
too large to be thus accounted for is met with the noteworthy propo
sition that it is the remoteness of the light from the body casting the
shadow, and not the size of the body, that makes a shadow large ;
and if Mount Athos casts a shadow 700 stadia in length, that is a con
sequence not of its height, but of the sun s great distance. The dis
cussion here is diverted to the question of the habitability of the
moon and the fate of our souls after death ; of this argument I need
only quote the comforting assurance that the devout and the virtuous
migrate to the moon, and that from the ether in which they float

BACKWARDNESS OF THE ANCIENTS. 445

they acquire an elasticity and a strength, for the maintenance of
which the most attenuated vapor affords sufficient nourishment.

However incomplete this summary of Plutarch s voluminous trac
tate, it will serve to convey some idea of the state of astronomy and
physics among the Greeks. In it we look in vain for simple recogni
tion of the facts, or for any just apprehension even of the most ele
mentary principles. Approaching their inquiries with foregone con
clusions, they had decided the causes of phenomena long before they
came fairly within range of them.

The point therefore is, not merely what we see, but also how we
see ; we must be able to critically examine what we Jiave seen, and,
above all, we must be able to recognize those features of the object
which are of importance. And, as in the foregoing examples we
have shown that in the domain of science mere seeing was not the
strong point of the ancients, so it can be proved that they were even
less distinguished for reflex seeing. By way of antithesis to a gener
ally-received proverb, we may with more justice, though less poetry,
declare that the simplicity of the child s understanding dwells on what
is unimportant, but commonly passes by unnoticed what is really of
moment. The senses, it is true, supply the material the conscious,
or mediate substructure for the grandest systems of thought ; but
yet in their further development they must be subject to the action
of the culture to which they themselves gave rise. Though at first
they were our preceptors, now they are oftentimes our pupils. In
seeing we have, perhaps, more need of the understanding than of the
eye, just as in walking we could better dispense with strong legs than
with sound lungs. The disciplined eye, though of feeble power, de
scries more objects difficult to be discerned than the strong but un
practised organ. This is true of the microscope and telescope as well
as of the naked eye ; and the student of Nature to-day, even with the
imperfect instruments of his predecessors, sees much more than they.
Who is there that has not innumerable times had experience of the
dependence of the senses on the understanding, in the fact that, when
he is intent on seeing a definite object, his eye becomes almost insen
sible to all other objects ? Thus, one who is searching in a garden
for red berries is quite unconscious of the blue berries which stand
side by side with the red.

We have in German a term which very happily expresses the
faculty, possessed by the most eminent of scientific geniuses, of dis
covering the important phases of ordinary phenomena : such men are
said to have " Blick." Have we not an instance of a higher visual
faculty, exalted not only by genius, but also by comprehensive knowl
edge, when a Gauss was led by the glistening of the windows of a
church-tower which he was observing with his telescope to the idea
of his heliotrope an instrument without which no accurate triaiigu-
lation is nowadays ever thought of; or when a Kittenhouse, in the

446 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

pretty images seen in a reversed telescope, discovered a means ever
since universally employed of producing artificial signals which have
precisely the same properties as though they stood in infinite dis
tance ; or when a Newton made of the spectrum, a thing that had
been gaped at as a mere curiosity a thousand times before, the
foundation of modern optics ?

The sudden arrival at a truth from all sides a thing so fre
quent in the history of the sciences, which often makes it hard to
decide to whom the honor of new discoveries properly belongs of
itself shows that cultivated minds in general have grasped the idea.
The human race might be compared to a traveler in unexplored
countries. As the booty he brings home is rich in proportion to
the extent of his own intellectual acquirements, which enable him
to distinguish what is new from what is hackneyed, so mankind has
need of schooling in order to understand what is of importance in the
events occurring round about. In short, one must be impressible in
order to be impressed.

Ever since the frmrth century of our era, the Chinese have used
the magnetic needle as a nautical instrument, and thus were enabled
to extend their voyages as far as India and Eastern Africa. The
Arabians brought us into relations with India in the eighth century,
and the Crusaders with the Orient in the tenth, and yet the mariner s
compass was not introduced into Europe till the twelfth century.

Does it not seem wellnigh incredible that we cannot trace the use
of the free-hanging plummet, as a means of observation, farther back
than the period when the Arabians were our teachers in astronomy ;
nay, that only in the fifteenth century it found general acceptance by
the exertions of our renowned countryman Georg von Peuerbach ?

When, at the beginning of the last century, Amontons worked
with entire success an optical telegraph; and Franklin, fifty years
later, robbed the clouds of their lightning ; and when both of these
men were dismissed even by a learned body like the Paris Academy
with stale witticisms ; if for thousands of years countless aerolites
have been seen to fall to the earth without ever giving rise to an
inquiry as to the nature of meteors the reason is always to be
found in the self-same indisposition to receive what is new, which
caused mediaeval Europe to pass by unnoticed the golden teachings
of a Roger Bacon or of a Leonardo da Vinci. Both of these stood
high above Francis Bacon as inductive philosophers ; but he had
for his contemporaries men who had been taught by Copernicus,
Galileo, Kepler, and others, some of the mighty consequences of that
principle which Francis Bacon had now simply to formulate in order
to have it universally accepted. Here and there other eminent men
had, long before Roger Bacon himself, hit on the right way of investi
gating Nature. This assertion, too, rests on unquestionable evidence,
which, however, is perhaps not so familiar to you. The visibility of

BACKWARDNESS OF THE ANCIENTS. 447

the crescent moon after new moon is of ritual significance to the Jews,
the ecclesiastical commencement of their months depending upon it.
Their great philosopher, Maimonides, who wrete in the twelfth centu
ry, informs us of the process whereby they for a long time noted the
moments wherein the lunula became visible; hence they deduced a
formula by the aid of which the time of the visibility of the crescent
may be calculated. This is induction pure and simple ; but not till
long afterward was the soil fitted to receive such seed, or the signifi
cance .of this process recognized.

For only a little over a hundred years have we been following the
right path. We have enlarged the capacities of our organs to an ex
traordinary degree; we have learned to warn our senses of the veils
with which preconceived philosophical ideas were wont to blindfold
them; we prize the good-fortune which places in our hands any im
portant clew to the working of Nature ; disdainful skepticism, of which
Alexander von Humboldt says that, in individual instances, it is al
most more harmful than unquestioning credulousness, is like the latter
disappearing from among us. But we must guard against the error
of supposing that herein is our entire salvation. " The educated man
is more than a virtuoso, than a specialist ; his power does not lie in
the exercise of one faculty alone. . . . The man who harmoniously
combines within himself the largest number of diverse faculties is a
leader of men, though he be surpassed by others in the development
of individual faculties. Here we have the fruits of true humanism,
of true culture, which is ever aiming at the establishing of an inward
equilibrium in the individual as in the state." These words of a re
nowned poet of the present age foreshadow the counsel I would offer
to you for your guidance through life. While, on the one hand, the
principle of the division of labor, without which human progress is
inconceivable, restricts the functions of the individual within a com
paratively narrow province : on the other hand, he only can wisely
elect to labor in such a province, and can work the field profitably,
who does not lack comprehensiveness. There is no science which has
not its aBSthetic side, as there is no study of form which may not be
advanced by having a basis in fact. Philologists and historians of
late have been desirous of having their studies classed among inductive
sciences ; the investigator of Nature feels more and more every day
that he has, perhaps, too long neglected the deductive method. And
philosophy itself, the science of sciences, can it subsist without a fun
damental knowledge of the grounds of all the sciences ? Without phi
losophy any high degree of intellectual development, in any direction
whatever, is inconceivable. Even they who turn away with con
tempt from Philosophy are, in spite of themselves, compelled to have
recourse to her. She alone brings clearness in thoughts upon the na
ture of one s chosen pursuit thoughts from which there is no escape
for whoever thinks !

448 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Let it then be your firm resolve, students of the high-school par
excellence, not to attend the lectures simply of one faculty, or of one
branch of a faculty. Be true to the principles of a universitas liter a-
rum. Over and above the studies special to your future calling, do
not fail to acquire as liberal an education as possible. Postpone purely
specialist studies to the time when you will not only have to receive,
but also to give to produce. Hold in high esteem the ancients in all
things wherein they were and still are our teachers. Despise not
your less remote predecessors and your contemporaries the world over
in matters wherein thev alone are the authorities.

THE SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY.

BY KEV. W. H. DALLINGER, V. P. E. M. S.

IN the present position of biological science in relation to this im
portant and interesting question, any positive results which have
a definite bearing on the difficulties of the subject, and point hope
fully to new methods of research, must be warmly welcomed. Prof.
Tyndall s beautiful series of experiments " On the Optical Deport
ment of the Atmosphere in Reference to the Phenomena of Putrefac
tion and Infection " are precisely of this class, and will give new
impulse and direction to all unbiased labor. It is to be regretted
when, in a matter so purely one of rigid science as this is, impas
sioned controversy is suffered to have any place. It fails utterly of
its intended purpose, and simply hinders and delays the final issue.
There are few but will have admired the animation, courage, and
resolution, manifested by Dr. Bastian in the discussion of this ques
tion during the last five years ; but those who have been most capa
ble of understanding the method, nature, and objects of his experi
ments, and the general drift of his reasoning, are those who most
earnestly disavow the perhaps unconscious, but nevertheless too pal
pable, advocacy of a thesis which his writings so freely display.

Dr. Bastian s position in relation to the origin of minute organic
forms has, at the outset, the immense disadvantage of being adverse
to the whole analogical teaching of Nature, down to the uttermost
depths of minuteness, where our knowledge is accurate and sound.
Wherever science has put down the landmarks of possession, and is
not dealing with the disputable territory of hypothesis, it is abso
lutely known that at some period in the cycle of development the
lowliest organisms are dependent for their propagation upon what we
can only look upon as genetic products.

Manifestly, then, it must be weighty nay, unequivocal and even
irresistible evidence that will induce the philosophical biologist to

SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY. 449

conclude that Nature s otherwise universal method is changed, in the
outmost fringe of organized being. Mere reasoning could never ac
complish this. It must be hard, defiant fact, which none can gainsay.
But verily no such facts nor even their most distant forecasts are
before us. The profound difficulties which bristle round the inquiry
on every hand are prominent signals for caution ; while the uncer
tainty and incompetency of the methods hitherto employed, and their
conflict of results, is alive with meaning. Indeed, we are dealing
with organisms so minute as to elude all but our best optical appli
ances ; and the accurate and correct interpretation of the details they
enable us to discover requires the practice and experience of years.
Of the developmental history of these organisms themselves, we
know from actual observation almost nothing with certainty ; and the
little we do know from such careful and patient observers as Cohn,
Billroth, Ray, Lankester, and others, is so complex and conflicting
as to demonstrate the necessity of years of patient experiment and
skilled research, and to plainly tell us of our ignorance of this mi
nute and wonderful group of organic forms. And yet, forsooth, we are
asked, upon the conflicting testimony of a multiplicity of boiled infu
sions, yielding often even in the same hands uncertain results, and in
different hands conflicting ones, to believe that organic Nature whose
method of reproduction is the same to the very limits of certain
knowledge changes its method in this uncertain and cloudy region.

Of course, to " spontaneous generation " as a mode of vital repro
duction there can be no a priori objection. Let us have it by all
means, if it be a fact in Nature ; but not on any other terms. Is it
reasonable to suppose that such men as Darwin, and Huxley, and
Tyndall, and Burdon-Sanderson, and Cohn, and Billroth, and Lankes
ter, would shrink from " spontaneous generation " because of the
; consequences " to which, strangely enough, it is by some supposed
to lead ? The very thought admits of nothing but ridicule. And
yet Dr. Bastian is displeased with Darwin x because he has not defi
nitely determined whether all living things originated in one primor
dial germ, or originated spontaneously in multitudinous centres scat
tered over the eai-th s surface. Both Huxley and Tyndall are in effect
charged with grave inconsistency, 2 because, while they admit the ori
gin of all vital forms by evolution, they yet declare that they have
never seen an instance of " spontaneous generation " of organized
forms. It is asked, " Why should men of such acknowledged emi
nence in matters of philosophy and science as Mr. Herbert Spencer
and Prof. Huxley promulgate a notion which seems to involve an
arbitrary infringement of the uniformity of Nature ?" I dare not
answer for them ; but for myself I answer, Because the facts as pre
sented to them on the subject as well known to them as to Dr. Bas
tian, and we may venture to say as well considered do not appear

1 "Evolution and the Origin of Life," pp. 13-17. 9 Ibid., pp. 15, 16.

VOL. ix. 29

450 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to involve the " arbitrary infringement " of Nature s uniformity of
which Dr. Bastian speaks. If these admittedly competent and pro
verbially fearless men could be led by facts to see that their teaching
promulgated an " arbitrary infringement " of Nature s method, is it
rational to suppose that they would . persist in it another hour ? The
very position, therefore, of the leading biologists of the day in rela
tion to the hypothesis of " spontaneous generation," is an authorita
tive declaration of the invalidity of the data on which it rests.

To Dr. Bastian, nevertheless, the " facts," such as they are, have
carried a different conviction. But, on analysis, that conviction is
evidently not wholly formed upon the bare "facts." It is influenced
and stimulated by a " philosophy " which., in short, is this : Continuity
in Nature is the grand outcome of all modern research ; but if you are
to have this in a sense wide enough to include the organic world,
you must have " spontaneous generation." Give up this, and con
tinuous evolution is impossible ; therefore abiogenesis must be a great
truth.

Of course, continuity in Nature is a profound truth. Every careful
and comprehensive student of modern biology will admit that. By
Dr. Bastiari s own showing, Huxley, Darwin, and Spencer, are its most
competent expositors. But they prefer not to be hasty. They decline
to determine the exact manner or line of that continuity until they
have facts of a competent kind to guide them. There may be lines of
continuity infinitely more subtile than any the subtilest minds have
even conceived. At least they decline to accept one, laid down, as it
appears to them, not by Nature, but by Dr. Bastian ; and no believer
in the evolution of living things, surely, is recreant of his creed who
declines a similar surrender.

The largest difficulty surrounding the question of the mode of
origin of septic organisms is that of discovering their life-cycle. By
dealing with them in aggregations we run told and untold risks.
The conflict of results by this means, in the most accomplished hands,
employing the most refined methods during the past eighteen years,
is a sufficient witness. Repetitions of experiments, and conflicting
results, and explanations of the reason why ; and so the cycle rolls.
Of course, important lessons in biology are learned, but not the lesson.
And yet by the teachings of this complex and doubtful method alone
Dr. Bastian is content to accept " abiogenesis " as a great fact in
Nature.

To those who are best acquainted with the experimental history of
the subject for the last twenty but certainly for the last six years
this is the more remarkable. For the weight of evidence is certainly
not only not in favor of "abiogenesis," but is in the strongest sense
adverse to it. The most refined, delicate, and continuous researches
all point to the existence of what are at present ultra-miscroscopic
germs. This, indeed, is directly affirmed by the authors. A single

SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY. 451

and recent instance will suffice. After a remarkable series of experi
ments detailed before the Royal Society, Dr. W. Roberts says : "The
issue of the foregoing inquiry has been to confirm in the fullest man
ner the main propositions of the panspermic theory, and to establish
the conclusion that bacteria and torulce, when they do not proceed
from visible parents like themselves, originate from invisible germs
floating in the surrounding aerial and aqueous media." 1

But, further, this has been remarkably sustained by analogical evi
dence. There are putrefactive organisms that closely approximate
to the bacteria in form, structure, and size. These are the " monads"
or, as Prof. Huxley doubtless more fitly names them, the heteromati.*
They live side by side with the bacteria in the same putrescent mass,
and certainly in the later stages of the disintegration of dead organic
matter are the most active and powerful agents. From their greater
size they present a more promising field for microscopical research
than the bacteria themselves ; and the life-history of some of these
could be fully mastered. I long since felt that valuable aid might
thus be rendered to the discovery of the nature of the bacteria.
Armed with the best and most powerful appliances which the modern
optician could supply, Dr. J. Drysdale and myself ventured on the
work. The results are fully detailed elsewhere. 3 It need only be re-

marked here that the only hope of success was in continuous observa
tion of the same form, in the same drop of fluid, under the highest
powers. The secret, therefore, was to find a means of keeping the
same drop under examination without evaporation. This we did. 4
The result was, that patient work enabled us to completely unravel

1 " Philosophical Transactions," 1874, p. 475.

2 Macmillari s Magazine, February, 1876, p. 379.

3 Monthly Microscopic Journal, vols. x.-xiii .

4 Ibid., vol. xi., pp. 67-69.

45 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the life-history of six of these organisms. These life-cycles cannot be
here recounted. Suffice it now to say that each of them multiplied
enormously by self-division (fission), but that the life-cycle in each
case began and ended in a distinct genetic product call them what we
choose, spores, germs, or ova.

FIG. 2.

I have drawn from Nature, in the six respective cases, the con
dition presented by each organism at the time of emitting its spores.
Fig. 1 is the genetic product of an oval monad, with a pair of
flagella ; it rapidly increased by fission ; then in a remarkable man
ner a pair blended, became one in the form of a sac, the sac burst
and poured out, as the drawing portrays, innumerable spores, which
were watched continuously until they were seen to develop into the
parent condition. Fig. 2 gives a similar product of another form, dif-

FIQ. 3.

ferent anatomically and in all the details of metamorphosis, but yet
passing through the states of fission, blending into a sac, and (as seen)
the emission of spores ; which were again watched into the parent con-

SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY. 453

dition. Fig. 3 shows the direct genetic product of a third, but this sac
did not contain spores, but living young, which swam forth at once
upon the bursting of the sac, and by taking in pabulum at all points
of the sarcode rapidly grew to the parent size. In Fig. 4 we have
new features. The organism is oval, with one flagellum. It multi
plies with enormous rapidity by multiple fission, 1 and then by distinct
genetic union a sac is formed and spores emitted ; but they are packed
in a glairy fluid, and were so minute that at first our best powers

FIG. 4.

failed to reveal them. But they were afterward seen, and their full
development traced. In Figs. 5 and 6 we have the same products of
the last two monads. In morphological detail they greatly differed
from all the preceding ones, and from each other. But the spore-sacs
were produced by the same means, and the exquisitely minute spores
poured forth were traced through all their stages to the adult condition.

We have here, then, important indications of fact concerning the
nearest allies of the bacteria : they develop from germs.

We have, besides, the weight of the best experimental evidence
pointing clearly to the existence of germs in the bacteria themselves.
But the microscope has failed to demonstrate the latter. Its finest
powers and finest methods failed to reach them.

Happily at this juncture Prof. Tyndall has stepped in, and, with
his accustomed brilliance and precision, has opened up the path we
need. He has presented us with a physical demonstration of the ex
istence of immeasurably minute molecules of matter utterly beyond
the reach of the most powerful combination of lenses yet constructed
which are the indispensable precursors of bacteria in sterilized infu
sions." 1 In short, he has opened up a new and exact method, which

1 Monthly Microscopical Journal, vol. xi., pp. 69, 70.

8 JVaforl, January 27, 1876, p. 252; and February 3, p. 268.

454

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

must lead to a scientific determination of the existence and nature of
the bacteria-germs. His beautiful experiments on the decomposition
of vapors, and the formation of actinic clouds by light, led him to
experiment on the floating matter of the air, and with what results is
widely known. Confined and undisturbed air, however heavily charged
with motes, becomes at length, by their deposition, absolutely clear,
so that the path of the electric beam is invisible across it. From this,
and associated indications, he acutely inferred that " the power of
developing life by the air, and its power of scattering light, would be
found to go hand in hand ; " so that a beam of light sent across the
air into which infusions might be placed and examined by the eye,
rendered sensitive by darkness, might be utilized with the best results
in determining the existence of bacteria-germs. To bring the idea to

FIG. 5.

FIG. 6.

a practical result a number of chambers were constructed with glass
fronts. At two opposite sides facing each other a couple of panes of
glass were placed to serve as windows, through which the electric
beam might pass. A small door was placed behind, and an ingenious
device was arranged to enable a germ-tight pipette to have free lat
eral, as well as vertical, motion. Connection with the outer air was
preserved by means of two narrow tubes inserted air-tight into the
top of the chamber. The tubes were bent several times up and down,
" so as to intercept and retain the particles carried by such feeble
currents as changes of temperature might cause to set in between the
outer and the inner air."

Into the bottom of the boxes were fitted large air-tight test-tubes,
intended to contain the liquid to be exposed to the action of the mote-
less air.

" On September 10th the first case of this kind was closed. The
passage of a concentrated beam across it showed the air within it to
be laden with floating matter. On the 13th it was again examined.
Before the beam entered, and after it quitted the case, its track was
vivid in the air, but within the case it vanished. Three days quite

SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY. 455

sufficed to cause all the floating matter to be deposited on the sides
and bottom, where it was retained by a coating of glycerine, with
which the interior surface of the case had been purposely varnished.
The test-tubes were then filled through the pipette, boiled for five
minutes in a bath of brine or oil, and abandoned to the action of the
moteless air."

In this way the air in its normal condition was freely supplied to
the infusions, but of mechanically suspended matter it could be de
monstrated that there was none. And it was proved, with a clearness
that admits of no quibble, that infusions of every kind, animal or vege
table, were absolutely free from putrefactive organisms. " In no sin
gle instance. . . . did the air which had been proved moteless by the
searching beam show itself to possess the least power of producing
bacterial life or the associated phenomena of putrefaction." But por
tions of the same infusions exposed to the common air of the Royal
Institution Laboratory at a continuous temperature of from 60 to 70
Fahr., fell invariably into putrefaction ; and when the tubes contain
ing them amounted to six hundred in number not one of them escaped
infection they were all " infallibly smitten." Here is irresistible
evidence that there is a direct relation between a mote-laden atmos
phere and bacterial development. The whole series of Dr. Tyndall s
exquisite experiments is simply an irrefragable affirmation of this
truth. The presence of the physically demonstrated motes is as essen
tial to the production, .in a sterilized infusion, of septic organisms, as
light is to actinic action. They cannot be made to appear without the
precursive motes ; they cannot be prevented from appearing if the
motes be there. That these are the germs of bacteria by themselves,
or associated with minute specks of matter, approximates to certainty
in the proportion of hundreds of millions to one.

A beautiful illustration of the minuteness and multitude of the
particles is given. Let clean gum-mastic be dissolved in alcohol, and
drop it into water ; the mastic is precipitated and milkiness is pro
duced. Gradually dilute the alcoholic solution, and a point is reached
where the milkiness disappears, and by reflected light the liquid is of
a bright cerulean hue. " It is in point of fact the color of the sky, and
is due to a similar cause namely, the scattering of light by particles
small in comparison to the size of the waves of light."

Examine this liquid with the highest microscopical power, and it
appears as optically clear as distilled water. The mastic-particles are
almost infinite in number, and must crowd the entire field of the mi
croscope ; but they are as absolutely ultra-microscopic as though
they had no existence. I have tested this with an exquisite -^ of
Powell and Lealand s, employed with a new and delicate mode of
illumination for high powers, 1 and worked up to 15,000 diameters;
but not the ghostliest semblance of such particles was seen. But at
1 Vide Monthly Microscopical Journal, April, 18*76.

4 5 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

right angles to a luminous beam passing among these particles in the
fluid "they discharge perfectly polarized light. . . . The optical deport
ment of the floating matter of the air proves it to be composed, in
part, of particles of this excessively minute character," and it is among
the finest of these ultra-microscopical particles that Prof. Tyndall
finds the sources of bacterial life. It is almost impossible to conceive
a nearer approach to certainty concerning the nature of these minute
particles than this. Their minuteness, their capability of being physi
cally demonstrated, the absolute necessity of their presence to the
origination of bacteria in sterilized infusions of any and every kind,
taken in connection with what we know concerning the germs of the
heteromita whose life-histories have been studied, render it simply inev
itable that we have at length reached, what we are justified in believ
ing to be, a genetic product of the bacteria through which their con
tinuation as organisms is preserved. When first I saw the simplicity
and beauty of this method, it struck me that its applicability as a test
in reference to germs known to be such would have considerable
collateral weight ; and a method of employing it was suggested by a
fact in past experience. 1 I had in my possession a maceration of cod s
head, which I had kept in use for eleven months. It had become a
pulpy mass, and in the middle of January last it was comparatively
free from bacteria, but swarmed with two monads the fourth and
sixth of the series described by my colleague and myself. To ascer
tain their exact condition, I watched them on the " continuous stage "
for three consecutive days, and found that both forms were to be seen
plentifully emitting spores. The maceration had become very short
of moisture, which served my purpose. I subjected it to a drier air
with a higher temperature, and it was not very long in becoming a
moist pulpy mass, with sufficient cohesiveness to be removed from the
vessel ; and in this condition it was placed in a heating-chamber,
which was slowly raised to a temperature of 150 Fahr., and kept at
this for an hour. This was 10 Fahr. higher than Dr. Drysdale and
myself had proved necessary to destroy absolutely every adult form.
The baked mass now appeared cracked, porous, and flaky. In parts
it was extremely friable, and with little pressure crumbled into almost
impalpable powder ; while by friction a very large proportion was
reduced to the finest dust. To avoid all possibility of error this pow
der was again exposed in the heating-chamber, spread over a plate of
glass, to a temperature of 140 Fahr. for ten minutes thus rendering
the plea of mere desiccation impossible.

A chamber or box was now prepared precisely like Prof. Tyndall s,
except that there were no tubes to communicate with the outer air.

In the " Researches " on the life-history of monads we had proved
that they could live, thrive, and multiply, almost as well in Cohn s
" nutritive fluid " as in the normal animal infusion. This fluid is com-
1 Vide Monthly Microscopical Journal, vol. xii., pp. 262, 263.

SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY. 457

posed of phosphate of potash, sulphate of magnesia, triple basic phos
phate of lime, tartrate of ammonia, and distilled water. If these in
gredients are all mingled the fluid becomes speedily charged with
bacteria, unless hermetically sealed, and sometimes even then. We
therefore keep the ammonia in a separate solution, mixing them when
required.

A portion of the fine dust of the maceration was now taken and
thoroughly scattered through the air of the prepared chamber. The
condensed beam from an oxyhydrogen lime-light 1 was then sent
through it. Its line of passage was far more brilliantly marked inside
the chamber than in the outer air. It was deemed inexpedient to
insert the fluids while such brilliant points were visible in the air, and
four hours were suffered to elapse. The lime-light beam was still
visible with perfect distinctness, but its path within the chamber was
much less brilliant and more homogeneous than it was without. The
fluids were then carefully mixed, and five small glass basins of the
mixture were inserted. The whole was undisturbed for five days.
At the expiration of that time the beam of the lime-light sent through
the chamber was absolutely invisible, although perfectly clear in the
open air on both sides of it.

The fluids were now withdrawn. Ten "dips" were taken out of
each basin for microscopical examination. In every "dip" that is,
fifty in all one or other of the monads appeared, and were in a state
of active fission ; and in twenty-seven of the "dips" both monads
were found. Bacteria swarmed the field, which of course I fully
expected.

I now took five other glass vessels, and inserted them with great
care into the now moteless air of the chamber, and poured in, as be
fore, fresh Cohn s fluid. They were exposed for another five days.
On careful microscopical examination of seventy-five " dips " not a
single monad of either form appeared / bacteria were feebly present,
but of course no steps were taken to guard against these, and, as be
fore, they were anticipated.

The air of the chamber was again impregnated with dust, as be
fore suffered for a time to settle, and these same vessels of fluid, which
had yielded negative results, were again placed in the chamber. At
the expiration of five days they were again examined, and one or
other of the monads was found in every successive "dip"

Now let it be observed that there can be no possible error as to
the forms. They were the identical species of the maceration, with
which I am as familiar as with a barn-door fowl. What, then, is the
logic of these facts ? Dr. Tyndall proves that bacteria only develop
in sterilized infusions when the air around them is laden with motes
of incalculable multitude and exquisite minuteness. Given the pres-

1 This was of course very much less capable of " searching " than the electric beam ;
but it served for the rougher end I had in view.

458 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ence of these, and the development of bacteria is inevitable. The in
ference is that the motes are germs. The above experiments show
that, in closely allied septic organisms, the germs of which have been
demonstrated and their developments watched, if the dry debris of a
maceration in which these forms are found be scattered in the air
around a prepared fluid, and demonstrated by similar optical means,
the said organisms develop; but if the minute dust from the debris
be optically proved to be absent, none of the monad -forms ap
pear. Here we do not hypothecate a germ, but we know that it
exists ; and its deportment in similar conditions is identical with that
of the assumed bacterial germ. Do we need more irresistible evi
dence that the bacteria develop, not de novo, but from genetic prod
ucts ?

Evidently Dr. Bastian thinks we do. He tells us in effect that, if
Dr. Tyndall has not succeeded, others have, in seeing bacteria reap
pear in infusions that have been exposed to a boiling-heat for five
minutes. This is true ; but not to the extent nor with the meaning
Dr. Bastian claims. He furnishes a list in Nature* for example, of
those who are supposed to have secured the results he insists on.
But this list is, perhaps hastily, but in effect, most unjustly framed.
It is not surprising to see strong protests from the investigators con
cerned. 9 The citing of Roberts, for example, or Lankester and Pode,
or Pasteur or Schwann, is simply a meaningless exercitation to all but
the ignorant. Stripped of all disguise, the number of cases of the
appearance of bacteria in sealed infusion after five or ten minutes
boiling is few and doubtful indeed. But still there are cases, and in
one instance at least admirably attested ; but they are confessedly
exceptional in a high degree. Dr. Bastian, however, prefers to inter
pret Nature from the exceptional flasks, and infer " spontaneous gen
eration" rather than be guided by the cumulative and overwhelming
evidence of the existence of bacterial germs, as the medium of their
normal reproduction. This must mean either that he believes that
these organisms originate de novo as well as by germs, which is a
direct petitio principii ; or else that he is incapable of seeing the
force of the facts which render the existence of germs inevitable.
From the conflicting evidence of his own writing it would almost
appear that he endeavored to maintain both these views. He has
recently said, " Prof. Tyndall s results, admirable as they may be in
themselves, are altogether collateral, and do not bear upon the main
point at issue." 3 Surely the "main point at issue" is the mode of
origin of bacteria, and we cannot get much nearer the origin of an
organic form than by tracing it to a genetic product a spore ! This
icas originally Dr. Bastian s question did bacteria originate de novo,
or from parents ? It is not so now. He says, " The question is, not

1 February 10, 1876. a E. G., Nature, February 24, 1876, p. 324.

3 Times, January 29, 1876.

SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY. 459

what air does or does not contain, since I have long ago shown ....
that boiled fluids can be made to putrefy and swarm with bacteria in
closed flasks, from which air and whatever it may contain has been
expelled." 1 The same reasoning also obtains in his communication to
the Lancet* and to Nature.* The result is clear. The doctrine of
" spontaneous generation " rests upon exceptions for its truth. In rare
instances, and in special infusions, bacteria have appeared after pro
longed boiling. After a careful sifting of the evidence, the meagre-
ness of the testimony is striking. All that can be fairly taken at all,
when justly weighed, if taken altogether, is not equal to the evidence
given by Dr. Burdon-Sanderson. 4 But it is well known that, while
admitting and publishing the facts, he ignores absolutely Dr. Bas-
tian s inference. And surely this is the truer philosophy. Let it be
granted that, by means not now explicable, the germs of bacteria, de
structible in filtered infusions at a boiling temperature, are feebly, and
at times, able to survive a slight continuation of the boiling-point in
infusions containing solid particles without apparent injury is not
that a ground for inquiring the reason why, rather than for inferring
"spontaneous generation?" If we can prove that in ninety-nine
cases out of one hundred actual germs-are destroyed at 212 Fahr.,but
that, in exceptional circumstances, the remaining one case yields bac
teria after exposure to 212 Fahr. for some minutes, is not that a
reason for inferring, and looking for, some protective influence upon
the germ, rather than launching into an hypothesis of a new mode
of origin ?

That the medium in which minute organic forms are subjected to
heat exerts an influence on their subsequent deportment I can abun
dantly prove. I am equally convinced that the death-point of bac
teria-germs hovers very near the boiling-point of water a conviction
amply sustained by fact. This being so, the survival, as germs, of
some few, amid incalculable myriads, by some accidental protection,
is surely possible. So that, indeed, all true work now should be a
study of the germ and its properties, and a discovery by patient
research of the life-history of the organism.

The valueless nature of mere temperature experiments on such
organisms, as tests of their ability to survive, without a knowledge
of their life-history, Dr. Bastian, without knowing it, has made suffi
ciently plain. He gives a brilliant illustration styled by himself
" typical " of the futility of his own method. Consider the facts.

In our "Researches" on the monads, my colleague and myself
made it a special point to institute a series of investigations on the
points of temperature which the adults, and the spores, of each form
studied could resist. The results were as unexpected as they were
remarkable. Only the results can here be stated. Taking the spore-

1 Times, January 29, 1876. 3 February 10, 1876.

9 February 5, 1876. 4 Nature, January 9, 1873, vote, rii. and viii.

460 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

sacs of the several forms in the order in which our illustration gives
them, the data are as follow, viz. : Fig. 1 survived after exposure to
250 Fahr. ; Figs. 2 and 4, 300 Fahr. ; Fig. 3 (which produced living
young), 180 Fahr.; Figs. 5 and 6, 250 Fahr. That is to say, the
spore, after the heating to the above-named temperatures, were fol
lowed step by step until they reached the parent condition. The
adults of each form were absolutely destroyed at from 130 to 140
Fahr. Thus, if all the examples be taken together, it will be seen
that on the average the spore have a capacity to resist heat better
than the adult in the proportion of eleven to six. This is surely im
portant.

Now, until Dr. Bastian s promised "new results" l have appeared,
I believe I am justified in affirming that the strongest cases on which
even he relies for "spontaneous generation" are recorded on pp. 175-
1 80 of his " Evolution and the Origin of Life." They are thus intro
duced : " After this I may, perhaps, be deemed fully justified in quot
ing two very typical experiments for the further consideration of
those who stave off the belief in spontaneous generation either by
relying on insufficient reasons for doubting the influence of boiling
water, or because of their following Pasteur, Cohn, and others, in sup
posing that certain peculiar bacteria-germs are not -killed except by a
brief exposure to a heat of 227 or 230 Fahr. For even if we could
grant them these limits, of what avail would the concession be ....
in the face of the following experiments ? " The details of the exper
iments follow. They are alike in method, and we will concern our
selves only with the second. A strong infusion of common cress, with
a few of the leaves and stalks of the plants, were inclosed in a flask,
which was hermetically sealed while the fluid within was boiling. It
was then introduced into a digester and gradually heated, and after
ward kept at a temperature of 270-275 Fahr. for twenty minutes, and
was retained at a temperature, if the time of heating and cooling be
considered, over 230 Fahr. for one hour. This flask was opened after
nine weeks. The reaction was acid ; the odor was not striking. On
microscopical examination with a -^-inch objective " there appeared
more than a dozen very active monads"

Now, fortunately, Dr. Bastian has not only carefully measured and
described these organisms, but he has drawn them, and they are
reproduced on the frontispiece of the book. He describes them as
the T J uir of an inch in diameter ; they were provided with a l-ong,
rapidly-moving lash (flagellum), by which granules were freely moved
about. But, besides this, " there were many smaller, motionless, tail
less spherules, of different sizes, whose body -substances presented a
similar appearance to that of the monads and of which they were
in all probability earlier developmental forms."

Now, by careful comparison, I find that this monad is no other
1 Vide Times, January 29, 1876. 8 "Evolution," p. 178.

SPONTANEOUS-GENERATION CONTROVERSY. 461

than the " uniflagellate monad," which is the fourth in the series
whose life-histories were studied by Dr. Drysdale and myself. 1 Figs.
Y and 8 will help to make this clear, where Fig. 7 is an exact ren
dering of Dr. Bastian s monad magnified 800 diameters ; and Fig.
8 is a drawing of the " uniflagellate monad " described by my col-

FIG. 7. FIG. 8.

Fig. 7, a Monad found by Dr. Baatian in an infusion after heating up to 275 Fahr., said to
be spontaneously generated.

Fig 8, the ^ame Monad as seen by Dallinger and Drysdale, and the spore of which (Fig. 4)
survives 300 Fahr.

league and myself, magnified 2,500 diameters. We describe it thus :
" Its exterior form is extremely simple, being ovoid, with a sin
gle flagellum. Its long diameter never exceeds the ^V?r P ar * ^
an inch " in length. 8 Now, from a very prolonged and careful study
of these organisms, I am convinced that Dr. Bastian s form and ours
are absolutely identical. But to make the thing simply irresistible
we have further and final evidence. One of the metamorphoses of
this monad on its passage to multiple fission is that it loses its flagel-
lum, and becomes precisely what Dr. Bastian saw all around a mo
tionless spherule. 3 These little bodies are less in diameter than the
active monad, and of precisely the same structure. The identity is
thus complete. The evidence is as full as may be ; the monad Dr.
Bastian saw was the one whose life-history was fully worked out. As
usual, it multiplies by fission, but the fission Is multiple. It then
passes to a sac-like condition, resulting from the uniting together or
fusion of two individuals. This sac becomes still and bursts, as seen
in Fig. 4, pouring out spores that taxed our highest powers and closest
watching. The spores of only two of the monads studied survived
after exposure to a temperature of 300 Fahr. This is one of them.

Now, Dr. Bastian says, " A drop of the fluid containing several
of these active monads was placed for about five minutes on a glass
slip in a water-oven, maintained at a temperature of 140 Fahr. All
the movements of the monads ceased from that time, and they never
afterward showed any signs of life." * This is precisely our experi
ence. But now mark the reasoning. This monad was killed at 140
Fahr., but it was found in an infusion that had been heated up to 275
Fahr. ; THEREFORE it must have originated de novo.

1 Monthly Microscopical Journal, vol. xi., p. 69, et seq. 2 P. 69, ibid.

3 P. 69, ibid. 4 "Evolution and the Origin of Life," p. 179.

462 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

But it has been shown that the monad has germs, and that these
have a power of resisting heat up to 300 Fahr. that is to say, 25
Fahr. higher than that to which Dr. Bastian s infusion was exposed
and therefore, by the logic of facts, the monads found were not a re
sult of " spontaneous generation," but were the natural outcome of a
genetic product contained in the infusion, and which the heat employed
could not destroy.

We need no stronger proof of the futility of reasoning concerning
the thermal death-point of a minute organism where developmental
history is wholly unknown. Yet so confident is our experimenter of
his result that he says : " Nothing that has yet been alleged, by way
of objection to the admission of spontaneous generation as an every
day fact, at all affects such experiments as these. The shortest way
out of the difficulty would, therefore, be to doubt the facts." But I
think I have shown a still shorter way " out of the difficulty," and
that without the discourtesy of doubting Dr. Bastian s experimental
" facts."

The truth, then, is that Dr. Bastian had no real knowledge of the
monad ; but he argued as if he had. Hence assumed premises led to
a false and fatal conclusion.

He is simply repeating this in his latest attitude in reference to
the question of the mode of origin of bacteria. Compelled to yield
all else, he throws up a rampart round his exceptional flasks, and de
clares "spontaneous generation" to be impregnable an inviolable
law of Nature. Dr. Tyndall is plainly told that his knowledge is
insufficient, that he has mistaken the meaning of the question, and that
his mode of treating it is " laughable ; " 1 and all this arises from the
fact that Prof. Tyndall dealt with the question of the mode of origin
of bacteria generally ; whereas, to have pleased Dr. Bastian, he ought
to have explained some exceptional conditions to which he now points
the exceptions being more important than the rule !

What are the facts ?

1. Dr. Tyndall has proved, in connection with a host of others, but
in a more definite and precise manner, that in filtered infusions five
minutes boiling does kill every form of bacteria.

2. He has further shown that they are propagated by demon
strable germs only, in such infusions ; and

3. This fact removes the probability of their spontaneous gen
eration to an almost infinite distance.

As to the development of bacteria in infusions charged with solid
matter, precise experiment of a sufficiently comprehensive character
has yet to be made on them, in relation to the demonstrated germs.
Meantime, shall we accept "spontaneous generation" on such ground
as its strongest advocate has now to offer, and ignore the vast chain
of facts copiously attested and controlled, which are in perfect har-
1 Lancet, February 5, 1876, and British Medical Journal, February 5, 1876.

SCIENCE IN THE ARGENTINE REPUBLIC. 463

mony with the known laws of the entire organic world ? This, and
nothing less than this, is what Dr. Bastian inculcates and demands.
Popular Science Review.

SCIENCE IN THE ARGENTINE REPUBLIC.

BY PROF. C. GILBEET WHEELER.

MUCH is being done in the Argentine Republic of South Amer
ica, not only for the advancement of general education, but
for the extension of science. The foreign still preponderate over the
native workers, yet there is a creditable showing of contributions to
science on the part of the indigenous talent of the country. With its
universities and colleges, its observatory, Meteorological Bureau,
Academy of Science, Argentine Scientific Society, museum, and scien
tific journals, with its rich and yet little-studied flora and fauna,
recent and fossil, the Argentine Republic has large and promising
facilities for training scientific investigators, and for vigorous progress
in the elements of a higher civilization.

The republic now has, in addition to the considerable number of
foreign eminent men of science domiciled within her borders, a few na
tives, mostly younger men, who are devoting themselves to scientific
pursuits. A still larger number are becoming interested in the sub
ject, sufficiently so, at least, to give much time to the collection of
specimens, making of experiments, or the recording of observations,
besides often expending in connection therewith not inconsiderable
sums of money. There is Moreno, the young, bold, and successful
explorer of Patagonia ; Ramorino, the student of the phenomena ex
hibited by the famous Rocking-Stone at Tandil ; and, as to the supply
of careful meteorological observers, our eminent countryman, Dr. B.
A. Gould, of the National Observatory and Director of the Meteoro
logical Office, says :

" There seem to be persons enough who are able and willing to undertake
the necessary labor of making systematic observations, troublesome as it is,
with no other stimulus than their desire to serve science and their country.
In three cases I have found gentlemen who have carried on observations of the
sort during past years (up to eighteen), unaided and unencouraged. These have
cordially offered me all their data, gratified at seeing their labors appreciated
at last. I think this young nation, so long struggling with foreign enemies and
internal dissensions, has reason to be proud of the number, relatively large, e\^en
though intrinsically small, who are ready to work for her welfare and honor,
without hope of personal glory or emolument."

Buenos Ayres, " the Athens of South America," has a scientific
society denominated " La Sociedad Cientlfica Argentina," with nine
ty-four active members, mostly natives, although the president is a

464 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Scotchman, the distinguished chemist, Prof. J. J. J. Kyle. Like all
similar societies with us, it has had an ebb-and-flow experience, and,
judging from the annual report for 1875, now before me, the monthly
seances in that year were not prolific in scientific memoirs.

The regular monthly meeting, which should have been recently
held, was transformed into an excursion to the steamboat-landing to
welcome the daring explorer, Moreno, a member of the society, and
who had just returned from a long and hazardous expedition, made
without companions, and for scientific purposes, in the wilds of Pata
gonia. The society turned out in strong force, and, accompanied by
many other friends and admirers of the " Livingstone of South Amer
ica," as he has been called, proceeded to the pier, where a scene of en
thusiastic embracing ensued, which I imagine must have been serious
to one with a less firm physique than that of Moreno. Thereupon the
noisy, good-humored throng accompanied him to his home, where a
repast was served. The society has in contemplation a public dinner
to the explorer, at which it is probable he will give some information
as to his experiences and the scientific results he has gathered.

The rooms of the society are central, very comfortable, and well
supplied with scientific periodicals. There are seven hundred books
in the library.

The society offers prizes of a gold medal, suitably engraved, to be
given as rewards for the satisfactory solution of scientific problems.
These were for 1875 :

1. The most important applications of chemistry to the industries
of the country.

2. The most important applications of physics to national public
works.

3. The best method of utilizing the raw materials of the country.

4. The best material for general construction suited to the republic.

5. The best method of manufacturing materials of construction.

6. The best work on physico-natural science, or its industrial ap
plications.

7. The best work on exact science, or its applications.
The awards for the previous year were :

Luis GARDELLA. For a steam-engine with multiple boiler.

CONRAD FORRER. For an electric clock.

M. PUIGGARI. Memoir on the manufacture of sulphuric from the
raw materials of the country.

JULIUS LACROZE. Memoir upon the utilization of the hard woods
of the country in the pavement of Buenos Ayres.

VINCENT GAETANI. For the manufacture in the republic of arti
ficial marble.

It appears to be the custom, on the 28th of July, to celebrate the
anniversary of the society by a conversazione, at which ladies are
also present. An exhibition of objects pf scientific interest was this

SCIENCE IN THE ARGENTINE REPUBLIC. 465

year displayed on that occasion, and proved to be a very interesting
feature.

The Academy of Sciences is formed from the scientific faculty of
the National University at Cordoba, with the addition of other men
of science in various parts of the country. The eminent zoologist,
Dr. Burmeister, of Buenos Ayres, is at the head of the Academy, and
the members of the scientific faculty of the university are in the
anomalous relation of being under the direction of the Academy
rather than the university in their duties to the latter.

The secretary of the Academy is at Cordoba, his office being in the
buildings of the university, where are also located the scientific col
lections of the Academy. These consist of:

1. The Mineralogical Museum, containing a rich and very well ar
ranged collection of minerals, altogether the best in the country. The
Argentine minerals are particularly well represented and classified
according to provinces. There are microscopic preparations accom
panying many of the respective minerals and rocks. The collection
occupies two rooms.

2. The Botanical Collection is crowded into a room about thirty-
six by twelve feet, and entirely too small to admit of appropriately
arranging the numerous and interesting specimens.

3. The Zoological Collection, which in condition of specimens and
lack of arrangement is a disgrace to the curator of this department.

4. The Physical Cabinet occupies three rooms and is a large and
quite well arranged collection of apparatus.

5. The Chemical Laboratory is in two of the basement-roorns, one
of which is very large. It is well equipped, but the apparatus is not
kept in the best order, nor the library which appertains to this de
partment.

6. The Library of the Academy is separated into sections, and the
books distributed in the various rooms, where are located the various
collections appertaining to the sciences of which they severally treat.

It is proposed soon to rearrange the collections of the Academy,
put them in order so far as they are in need of it, and, where requisite,
move them into more desirable and commodious apartments. They
will, however, remain as now, the material for scientific illustration
of the National University courses of instruction.

The glory of the Argentine Republic in the direction of work ac
complished for science, and, as far as I am informed, of South America
as well, is the National Museum at Buenos Ayres, of which the dis
tinguished zoologist, Dr. Burmeister, whose reputation is European
as well as American, is the director. To a man of science this museum
offers as great attractions as any of the leading ones in Europe, and
there are many specimens found here, particularly in the department
of paleontology, that are entirely unique. Remains of the huge ani
mals of the sloth and armadillo families have nowhere been found so

TOL. IX. 30

4 66 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

abundantly as in the valley of the Plate ; in fact, most are unknown in
other parts of the world. The National Museum at Buenos Ayres has
a collection especially of Glyptodons and Megatheriums unequaled by
any museum in the world ; has, indeed, of the former a greater number
than are to be found in all other collections. These fossils, found in
the Argentine Republic, are objects of special legislation, inasmuch as
Congress has by law forbidden their exportation except with the con
sent of the director of the museum. This consent is given only in
those cases where duplicates equally good and interesting are already
in the museum. Dr. Burmeister informs me that there are but three
specimens of the Glyptodon anything like complete in European mu
seums, and that in the United States he believes there are none. Even
those which are in Europe are imperfect in some important features ;
none of them, for instance, showing the interesting annular connec
tions between the carapace and the base of the tail, thus very much
marring the symmetrical appearance which the fossil in reality pos
sesses. The Glyptodon, as will be remembered, is one of the most
conspicuous objects in the collection of casts of fossils made at Roches
ter, and now found in several American museums.

During my stay in Buenos Ayres there has been exhumed a more
perfect Glyptodon than any yet in foreign museums, and, as Prof.
Burmeister has the same species, I have bought it and shall bring it
to the United States.

Besides the remains of extinct animals, the National Museum is
rich in specimens of recent fauna, particularly insects. It also con
tains many objects of archaeological and historical interest. Its min-
eralogical collection is of very trifling importance.

At present the museum appears to be overfilled, and it is evident
that larger accommodations than the present are very much needed.

Dr. Burmeister has published the Anales del Museo Publico now
for a number of years, which contains excellent and detailed descrip
tions of many new species, the originals of which are in the museum.
In this work the huge edentates and other mammalia which have
made this museum so famous are described and figured.

SCIENTIFIC JOURNALS IN BUENOS AYRES. In 1873 there was pub
lished a journal devoted to science, denominated El Ateno Argentina.
It, however, expired, after six numbers had appeared. It was, I believe,
a monthly.

The following year in May the Anales Cient ificos Argentinos was
begun as a scientific monthly, of about thirty-two pages each number.
The copy now before me contains about twenty pages of original inves
tigation, the balance excerpta and translations. Five numbers of this
journal appeared when the Mitre revolution, which for the time being
paralyzed so many undertakings, extinguished also this laudable pri
vate enterprise.

A few months ago the Sociedad Cientifica Argentina, of which I

AMERICAN COLLEGES vs. AMERICAN SCIENCE. 467

have already spoken, commenced the publication of a monthly journal
entitled Anales de la /Sociedad Cientifica Argentina, which appears to
be a creditable periodical, and I trust will live and prosper.

There is also published in Buenos Ayres a semi-scientific journal,
called the Anales de la Sociedad Rural Argentina.

That there is some taste among the general public for scientific
reading is exhibited by the circumstance that the daily papers find it
worth their while to frequently admit scientific articles.

THE NATIONAL OBSERVATORY AT CORDOBA was established in
1872, under the Sarmiento administration, our distinguished fellow-
countryman, Dr. B. A. Gould, being placed in charge as director,
which position he still holds. The observatory has done splendid
work for science since its establishment. A series of maps of the
heavens, from the pole to several degrees north of the equator, is in
course of preparation under the title "Uranometria Argentina." It
is expected to contain about 85,000 stars, 35,000 of which are now
for the first time corrrectly mapped. It is far advanced, and will be a
monumental work when completed.

A meteorological office is also under Dr. Gould s supervision, and
it is intended, when the arrangements now under way are completed,
that the Argentine Republic shall also have her " Old Probabilities."

There is a school of mines in the republic, also two schools of
agriculture. They, however, are too recently established to admit as
yet of important results in their respective spheres.

BUENOS AYRES, March, 1876.

AMERICAN COLLEGES VERSUS AMERICAN SCIENCE.

BY F. W. CLARKE, S. B.,

PROFESSOR OF PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY IK THE UNIVERSITY OF CINCINNATI.

A MERICA, when compared with other first-class nations, occupies
--*- a low position in science. For every research published in our
country, at least fifty appear elsewhere. England, France, Germany,
Austria, Russia, Italy, and Sweden, outrank us as producers of knowl
edge. Our original investigators in any department of learning may
almost be counted on the fingers. Fifteen or twenty chemists and
physicists, as many mathematicians and astronomers, and a somewhat
larger number of zoologists, entomologists, botanists, and geologists,
would fill out our meagre catalogue. Among these few discoverers a
comparatively small proportion are of high rank. There may be in
the United States, all told, twenty men of really notable scientific
standing, although there is no one to compare in actual achievements
with Sir William Thomson, Helmholtz, or Regnault. In geology we

468 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

make a pretty fair showing, perhaps, because of the great facilities
for research offered by our surveys and exploring expeditions. The
newness of our country has also been of advantage to our zoologists,
who have not failed to improve their opportunities. But in chemistry
and physics, the two sciences most intimately connected with our
greater industries, we have accomplished very little.

Several causes have combined to bring about this state of affairs.
There is native ability enough in America to carry on work of the
highest order, but inducements and opportunities have been lacking.
The labor of developing new regions, of building up commerce, manu
factures, and agriculture, of constructing railroads, bridges, and tele
graphs, has diverted public attention from matters apparently of a
more abstract and less immediately practical character. Material
necessities have taken a natural precedence of intellectual wants.
Now, having laid our foundations, we begin to think seriously about
the future superstructure.

But apart from all these drawbacks to American scientific growth,
there is yet another of almost equal magnitude. This is to be found
in the system (or rather lack of system) which has shaped our higher
education. Our country is dotted over with a multitude of so-called
colleges and universities, which have sprung up, not in response to
any well-defined necessity, not under the developing influence of
broad and clear ideas, generous culture, and wise motives, but because
of personal ambition, sectarian jealousy, or petty local pride. States
have conferred charters almost indiscriminately, without reason or
forethought. Any body of trustees, no matter how ignorant or how
foolish, has had but to ask for university powers, and the request has
been granted. Incapacity on their part, or injudiciousness in their
plans, has seemed to offer no impediments. This policy may be
democratic, but it certainly is not wise. Its chief result must inva
riably be to degrade the standard of education. A college or uni
versity charter should be issued only with extreme care, and to fully
responsible persons. It ought to demand compliance with certain
rigid conditions, and should be forfeited whenever the institution
holding it falls below the proper standards. But the mischief has been
done, and science has suffered. Let us see how.

In order that science may flourish in any community, several
things are needful. There must be a general appreciation of its true
value to the world, a clear understanding by men of culture as to the
best means for its promotion, facilities for both study and research,
and suitable inducements to attract intellectual labor. No matter
how able and enthusiastic an investigator may be, he can do little
without apparatus or specimens, encouragement, and the means of
support. Indeed, the last-named, or bread-and-butter element, is a
very important feature of the problem. The human brain is a market
able commodity, at the service of the best-paying master. Payment

AMERICAN COLLEGES vs. AMERICAN SCIENCE. 469

may come partly in the shape of fame, but something of a decidedly
material nature is demanded also. A man may love science devoted
ly, and yet be starved into adopting some more lucrative profession.

Suppose, now, that a young man of culture, genius, and enthusiasm,
wishes to devote his life to science. He has received the necessary
training in his favorite branch, and simply asks for an opportunity to
apply his attainments both to bodily support and to the extension of
human knowledge. At the very start the chances are against him.
Many such men are annually driven by necessity out of the field of
science, and forced to seek a maintenance in trade, manufactures, or
some other department of industry. That a great deal of valuable
talent is thus wasted, and turned into channels unsuited to its de
velopment, there can be no doubt. That so much good work has
been done in a society where so much is lost, speaks well for the
human intellect, and shows that real ability is commoner than the
majority of people suppose. If seed never fell by the wayside, but
only in fruitful places, our views of human nature would soon under
go a wonderful change.

But in the case of our particular novice, employment is at last
secured as "Professor of Natural Science" in an average American col
lege. In fact, scarcely any other career would be open to him. Now,
how many of the requisites for success are likely to be at his com
mand ?

To begin with, he encounters a board of trustees among whom
not one has the remotest idea of what science is, or what is essential
to its growth. He is called upon .by these gentlemen to "teach"
chemistry, physics, astronomy, botany, zoology, mineralogy, geology,
physiology, and perhaps Paley s evidences on top of all. For study
and research he has neither time, books, nor apparatus. For study,
indeed, he is not supposed to need any time ; and if he should press
this necessity upon his employers, he would probably be told that he
ought to know his lessons before attempting to teach. His students
come to him miserably prepared, caring little for what he considers
important, and regarding his instruction as so much of an impediment
between them and their degrees. And for all this he may receive less
than a thousand dollars a year, and that with a feeling of precarious-
ness and uncertainty. At last one of three things happens : he is
either called to a chair in some respectable institution, gives up teach
ing altogether for another less annoying occupation, or else, his enthu
siasm quenched and his aspirations gone, settles down into a dreary
rut, to rust out the remainder of his days.

This picture may seem exaggerated, and yet it is wholly within
bounds. Many men have been ground through the mill of an unen
dowed country college professorship, and know how hard and thank
less were the tasks assigned for them to do. In such a position the
true man of science can very rarely find either appreciation, encourage-

470 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ment, facilities, or pecuniary reward. Discouragement of the most
wearing kind will, in nine cases out of ten, be his lot.

The American college system, then, is clearly an impediment in
the way of American science. It acts adversely in several modes, and
these I purpose tracing.

There are to-day in America over five hundred institutions claiming
the name of college or university. Of these more than forty are in
the single State of Ohio. Some are exclusively for male students,
others receive only young ladies, the majority are arranged for the co
education of the sexes. Every religious sect, or fragment of a sect,
is represented : Baptists, Free-will Baptists, Seventh-day Baptists,
Presbyterians, United Presbyterians, Cumberland Presbyterians,
Episcopalians, both High-Church and Low-Church, Methodists of
divers complexions, Adventists, Swedenborgians, Friends, Unitarians,
and Universalists : all control special institutions, equipped and en
dowed with due reference to the perpetuation of sound faith, and,
incidentally, to the encouragement of what is supposed to be learning.
Among Catholics, who now control seventy-four colleges, the inter-
sectarian character is strongly marked, and institutions are recognized
as especially Jesuit, or Franciscan, or Benedictine, or managed by the
Christian Brothers, or by the Congregation of the Sacred Heart.

Now, there are several ways by which this sectarianism in educa
tion works mischief to science. The very fact that a college has been
established for theological purposes, or for ecclesiastical aggrandize
ment, is adverse to good scientific research. Even though the teacher
of science may not be directly ^hindered, the studies which are of
especial value to theological students will be given undue prominence.
In fact, nearly every American college emphasizes the classics and
literary studies, and looks upon natural science as something of minor
importance, often as a dangerous accessory, which must be tolerated,
but not encouraged. A college catalogue which now lies open before
me, after announcing that full provision has been made in its course
for the inculcation of religion and morality, asserts that " scientific
culture is of value only in so far as it is based on a true conception
of God, and our relation to him." Such a statement as this, viewed
from the standpoint of any particular sect, will usually be found to
mean more than the mere words indicate.

But the great injury to science is done by the unnecessary sub
division of forces. Forty institutions spring up where only one is
needed, and nearly all of them are necessarily weaklings. Libraries,
cabinets, apparatus, buildings, and faculties, are foolishly duplicated.
Each college lives in a continual struggle for existence, doing inferior
work, and paying miserable salaries to an inadequate corps of teachers.
If there were such things as Presbyterian mathematics, Baptist chem
istry, Episcopalian classics, and Methodist geology, such a scattering
of educational forces would be pardonable; but, as matters really

AMERICAN COLLEGES vs. AMERICAN SCIENCE. 471

stand, it is a nuisance for which no valid excuse can be found. Here
there seems to be a real conflict, not between religion and science, but
between the injudiciousness of religious people and the requirements
of scientific research. Where one good laboratory should exist, we
have forty small and inferior sets of apparatus, each fit only for ele
mentary instruction, and wholly unsuited to purposes of investigation.
Thus the very institutions which we should naturally expect to ad
vance science have been made by sectarian spirit incapable of yield
ing solid results. Other branches of learning suffer also, only science
is most impeded of all. The classics, mathematics, philosophy, or
literature, demand few appliances. Give the professors a fair library,
perhaps some maps or charts, and a recitation or lecture room apiece,
and all is provided for. But science, to be properly taught, demands
much more. There must be not only laboratories and apparatus, but
material and specimens ; and these all cost much money. No wonder,
then, that a poor institution cramps its scientific teachers, and offers
meagre opportunities for the prosecution of their best and most valu
able work.

Going a step beyond this curtailment of material means, we shall
find that the division of forces again operates contrary to science in
the selection of professors. In the first place, poverty compels a col
lege to demand more work from a professor than any man can well
do. A teacher who is called upon to instruct elementary students
in half a dozen distinct branches cannot accomplish much real work
in any one. Every branch of science is vigorously growing, and can
be properly taught only by one who has the time to keep abreast of
its growth. A large majority of American college professors are now
incompetent, because the policy of college management keeps them
so. Let us glance at a few of the professorships which some country
colleges have established. Here, for example, is McCorkle College,
situated in Eastern Ohio, whose ministerial president is " Professor of
Hebrew, Natural, Mental, and Moral Science." Surely this gentle
man, if his professions are honest, must be the most learned scholar
in the world. His "moral science" would, of course, prevent him
from undertaking any work which he was incompetent to do. We
cannot suspect a "reverend" of hypocrisy in such a matter as this.
In Maryland, New Windsor College contrives to neutralize scientific
heterodoxy with a " Professor of Abstruse Science and Religious In
structor." Such a teacher can easily take time by the forelock, and
inoculate the minds of his young charges with a proper disrespect for
the awful notions of Darwin, Tyndall, Huxley, Draper, and company.
Another Maryland college, St. John s, rejoices in a "Professor of Nat-
nral Philosophy, Chemistry, Mineralogy, and Geology, and Lecturer
on Zoology and Botany." Penn College, in Iowa, has a " Professor
of Natural Science and Political Economy ; " and Eminence College,
Kentucky, a "Professor of Biblical Literature, Mental Philosophy,

472 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and Chemistry." Even in New York State there is Hobart College,
with its " Professor of Civil Engineering and Chemistry, and acting-
Professor of Mathematics and Modern Languages." Professorships
like these are by no means rare ; they are the rule rather than the ex
ception. A very large majority of our so-called " institutions of learn
ing" employ Jacks-of-all-trades to do the work of instruction, and
how well that work is likely to be done we can easily imagine ; in
deed, it is difficult to understand how a conscientious man can under
take such tasks. Every teacher who is competent to teach at all
must know that he is unable to cover so much ground, and should re
fuse to be a party to such fraudulent teaching. Fraudulent is not too
strong a word to use in this connection. An institution which re
ceives money from its students in payment for an education such as it
cannot give, is certainly guilty of fraud. These frauds are the natural
outgrowth of improperly-granted charters, incompetent or ignorant
boards of trustees, and reckless sectarian pride. Every denomina
tion seems to be imbued with the characteristic American anxiety for
display, and the establishment of a new college is a convenient piece
of clap-trap to resort to. Surely the advancement of religion ought
not to render necessary such sacrifices of true principle ! If false pre
tensions are to be thus directly encouraged by the churches, what can
we expect from the people at large ?

The smaller colleges, however, are not the only ones to blame in
this matter of professorships. They are perforce compelled to employ
smatterers, because of their inability to pay the proper number of
specialists. But institutions of considerable wealth often injure sci
ence in their selection of teachers by introducing false issues into the
question. Every year professors are chosen, not on account of scien
tific ability, but for reasons of a theological or sectarian character.
If two men, one a Baptist, and the other a Unitarian, were candidates
for the same professorship in a Baptist university, the former, even
if very much inferior to his rival, would almost certainly be elected.
There may be exceptions to this general rule, but they are very rare.
Even at Princeton issues of this sort are frequently raised, and the
ablest candidates have been rejected on purely dogmatic grounds.
Theological soundness in such an institution far outranks scientific
ability. If Laplace had lived in America, no college would have tol
erated him for an instant. Almost any decayed minister, seeking an
asylum, would have beaten him in the race for a professorship. Not
many years ago, the ablest chemist America has ever produced was a
candidate for the chair of chemistry in a very prominent Eastern col
lege. He did not believe in the Trinity, and for that reason alone
failed of an election. The immorality of such a system is manifest.
When success or failure is made to depend upon a mere profession of
belief, a direct premium is put upon hypocrisy. Incompetent men
are not unlikely to be unscrupulous also. Science cannot really flourish

AMERICAN COLLEGES vs. AMERICAN SCIENCE. 473

in America until, in this respect, the colleges mend their ways. Men
must be chosen professors because of their fitness to teach specified
subjects, and not on account of their notions, real or professed, con
cerning abstract theological dogmas. Moral character ought, of
course, to be considered ; but mere speculative belief, never.

Another objectionable result of college scattering is the under-pay-
ment of professors. Even our best universities have shortcomings in
this respect. A teacher upon small salary is naturally somewhat un
settled in his mind, is apt to be looking about for better employment,
and is liable to feel a constantly diminishing interest in his work. Sta
bility of place and freedom from pecuniary anxiety are very important
to an investigator; and just these requisites few American colleges
are able to supply. A large salary is not absolutely necessary to a
scholar, but a certain means of comfortable subsistence is. At pres
ent, when wholly inadequate payment is offered, there is scarcely any
inducement to attract a young man into the scientific life. A profess
orship or tutorship may be accepted for a year or two, perhaps, just
as a stepping-stone to something more lucrative, but how rarely is the
teacher s vocation taken up as a career ! Almost every other impor
tant occupation yields surer rewards, and a fairer prospect of attain
ing to a competency. A young lawyer, doctor, or merchant, if care
ful and industrious, may reasonably look forward to possessing at
some time a home of his own, with the. means of sustaining and prop
erly educating his children. The young devotee of science, however,
has rarely any such possibilities before him. His labor is as arduous as,
and demands even more talent than, that of the attorney or physician,
but the recompense is vastly less. If, as he ought, he gives his leisure
moments to the advancement of learning, he will find his salary insuf
ficient for the maintenance of a family. In order really to live, he
must constantly be doing outside work. He will thus struggle along,
year after year, in constant danger of being discharged or supplanted,
and, in his old age, weary and broken down, will find himself little
more than a pauper. Is it strange, then, that the best intellectual
talent of America is repelled from professorial positions, and attracted
into other fields of labor? Can science be expected to flourish under
such a system ? We pay mere popular lecturers well enough ; and
surely the real workers, who create science, ought to be fairly recom
pensed also. But we can hope for little improvement until the num
ber of colleges is reduced, and the means of those remaining suitably
enlarged. Science must offer careers to men of ability, with the re
wards which capacity, skill, and faithful industry, always ought to
receive.

But, after tracing all the effects produced by the division of edu
cational forces, we shall still find other points in which our college
system is prejudicial to science. Glance over the curriculum laid
down in almost any college catalogue, and see how the scientific in-

474 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

struction is arranged. In nearly every instance there will be found
an enormous disproportion between linguistic studies and science.
As a rule, over one-half of a student s time for four years is assigned
to language ; the remaining half being divided between mathematics,
English literature, history, philosophy, and " natural science." Chem
istry, for example, is generally taught through a single term (one-
third or one-half, as the case may be) of the junior year. Thus a
study, extremely important both practically and as a means of. culture,
is pursued by a student for perhaps three hours a week during one-
eighth or one-twelfth of his college course. In some institutions, un
doubtedly, more time is given to chemistry ; but such cases are com
paratively rare. A youth will enter college with at least a year s
preparation in Greek, and then will follow that study for the greater
part of his four years course; but the science from whose applica
tions he derives direct benefit every day of his life is crowded out
into an obscure corner of the curriculum, and made to seem of little
value. Physics is treated like chemistry; while geology, botany,
zoology, and astronomy, are pushed even closer to the wall.

Now, what effect has this unfair distribution of studies produced
upon American science ? Plainly, a very bad effect. Our scientific
men must be recruited mainly from among the ranks of our college
graduates, and hence the latter ought to be imbued with something
of the scientific spirit. That spirit is not likely to be very strongly
aroused by the present policy of make-believe teaching. In fact, an
enthusiasm for science is dampened rather than encouraged in the
majority of American universities. The student sees men of fair
training employed to teach the classics, while the work in scientific
branches is done by wholly-untrained or imperfectly-trained instruct
ors. Frequently it happens that Latin and Greek are taught by
separate professors, while a single teacher is called upon to cover all
science outside of mathematics. It is easy to see what effect such a
state of affairs is liable to produce upon the mind of an average pu
pil. He becomes accustomed to regard the sciences as comparatively
unimportant. He learns almost nothing of their true relations to life,
and the little which he does happen to pick up is gleaned from a few
superficial lectures and two or three trivial text-books. If he fails in
these studies at examination, the failure counts practically nothing
against him upon graduating. In short, the college deliberately car
ries out a policy of scientific smattering, and the student is influenced
about as might be expected. He graduates in complete ignorance
both of the methods and of the aims of science, having learned only a
few disconnected facts concerning the great world about him.

Very many American colleges, however, nowprovide what claim
to be " scientific courses," running for four years parallel with those
in classics, and leading to bachelor of science degrees. This fact
illustrates only a sham deference to the public demand for less Latin

AMERICAN COLLEGES vs. AMERICAN SCIENCE. 475

and Greek, and amounts to very little in favor of science. A striking
case in point is furnished by McCorkle College, the learned president
of which we have already referred to. Let us analyze the course laid
down in the catalogue. There are three terms per annum for four
years, or twelve terms in all, and in the regular classical course the
studies run as follows : Latin is taught during ten terms ; Greek,
through eight terms ; mathematics, five ; history, four ; Hebrew,
three; natural philosophy, two; chemistry, two; geology and as
tronomy, one each ; other studies, mainly philosophical but none sci
entific, seven. The modern languages seem to be omitted altogether !
Then, following the schedule from which this abstract was made,
comes the announcement that " the scientific department will embrace
all the above course except the classics." Could a more contempti
ble sham be invented ? Would it be possible to do more in the way
of belittling science ? The total omission of scientific studies would
be more honest and more truly in the spirit of science. And yet this
institution is empowered to grant degrees, and has the same legal au
thority as Harvard, Yale, or Cornell. This is, to be sure, an extreme
case, but it is not much worse than a host of others. As a general
rule, the " scientific course " in a Western college is the classical
course, plus a little mathematics, and with French and German sub
stituted for Latin and Greek. Less preparation on the part of the
student is required to enter it, and every applicant is given to under
stand that it does not rank quite equally with its older rival. In both
courses the natural sciences are similarly arranged, so that the gradu
ated bachelor of science knows really no more chemistry, physics,
botany, zoology, geology, or astronomy, than the supposably less
scientific bachelor of arts. In fact, the great majority of so-called
" scientific courses " are mere makeshifts, intended to accommodate
those students who are too dull, or too imperfectly prepared for tak
ing the more thoroughly-equipped line of study in the classics.
Here, again, American colleges oppose the development of the scien
tific spirit, and hinder seriously the growth of American science.

It would be possible to multiply indefinitely these illustrations of
weakness on the part of our college system. Institution after insti
tution might be cited in which not science only, but all culture, is at
the lowest possible ebb. Just the bare facts concerning some West
ern and Southern colleges would, if published here, seem like incredi
ble exaggerations or distortions of the truth. I have beside me col
lege catalogues which are positively grotesque in their absurdities ;
no satire could do justice to them. One institution in particular,
situated in Tennessee, has fairly reached the point at which the sub
lime and the ridiculous meet. In respect to science, even some of our
oldest and best universities are open to criticism. Some apply theo
logical tests in the election of professors, and in a mild way act tow
ard modern science as some of the Spanish universities once acted

476 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

toward the discoveries of Newton. Many others make lower stand
ards for scientific than for classical students, seemingly upon the idea
that a bachelor of science is expected to know less than a bachelor of
arts. Perhaps the scientific spirit is now best represented in this
country by the Sheffield Scientific School at New Haven. Here the
policy of the institution seems to have been entirely shaped and
guided by the Faculty rather than by the trustees. The Lawrence
Scientific School did stand higher before the abolition of its special
laboratory, and approximated closely to the German idea ; but of
late its Connecticut rival has passed it in the race. As a university,
taken for all in all, Harvard is probably far ahead of Yale, but in
training scientific students the latter can at present claim superiority.
The Columbia College School of Mines is also a good institution, but
it errs in the direction of over-thoroughness. The students have so
much routine and detail work to do that no time is left for original
ity. The instructors, too, are overworked, so that they can accom
plish little in the way of research, and they are, moreover, in many
cases, underpaid. This latter evil the trustees can and should rem
edy. It also occurs at Cornell University, and has lost to that institu
tion the services of several valuable men. These points are mentioned
now, not hypercritically, but because they serve to illustrate certain
discouragements which our scientific men have to encounter.

Now, having recognized some of the weaknesses in our American
mode of conducting the work of higher education, we may reason
ably ask how they are to be remedied. How shall reform be brought
about, and by whom ?

It is quite evident that improvement must come partly from within
and partly from without. The internal management of each college
must modify itself for the better, and its efforts should be strength
ened and encouraged by exterior influences. From the latter, how
ever, we have most to hope. As long as our colleges are controlled
by men who do not appreciate thoroughness in scientific culture, we
can expect but little from within. An incompetent Faculty is not
likely to become suddenly conscientious and resign, neither are aver
age boards of trustees prone to confess their incapacity. External
pressure must be brought to bear both upon trustees and upon pro
fessors before they can be made fully to realize the responsibilities
resting upon them. This pressure may come, partly from public sen
timent, and partly, though later, through legislation.

But how shall public sentiment be properly shaped and made
available for service ? How is its natural though slow growth to be
fostered and directed ? Mainly by the efforts, organized and indi
vidual, of scientific men. Personally, every worker in science should
strive to awaken in the communit y about him a comprehension of the
value and the purposes of his particular branch. In other words, the
real investigators ought to do more toward popularizing their discov-

AMERICAN COLLEGES vs. AMERICAN SCIENCE. 477

eries, instead of leaving the task to amateurs or charlatans. At pres
ent, unfortunately, too many able scientific men depreciate popular
work and hold aloof from it. They do nothing themselves to inter
est the general public, and then lament the fact that the public does
not become interested. Yet just here is where the beginning must
be made. With a wider public interest in science will come a deeper
public appreciation, and this will develop the tendencies necessary
for the improvement of our colleges and schools. Until the people
see and recognize the difference between true investigators and mere
collectors of specimens, between original workers and text-book ama
teurs, little real progress can be made.

Organized effort is also needed. Just as lawyers or physicians
band themselves together, so also men of science should combine for
mutual self-protection against quackery. A man who had never
been admitted to the bar could scarcely be chosen to a law profess
orship, neither could any one but a regular graduate be elected to
teach in a respectable medical school. Why should not organization
among chemists, geologists, or naturalists, produce in the long-run a
similar state of affairs ? Such an effective organization it might be
difficult to bring about, and still something could be done. Even a
very little improvement would be better than no improvement at
all. Local scientific societies might do good in two ways : 1. By
preventing, or at least opposing, bad appointments in colleges ; 2.
By furnishing the means for popular lectures and field-excursions.
They could also, perhaps, do something toward breaking up the
present vicious and absurd mode of teaching science by mere text
book recitations, and so help forward the adoption of correct meth
ods. An attempt to teach drawing or music by lectures only, would
be universally recognized as nonsensical ; the same system of in
struction applied to any one of the natural sciences is equally ridicu
lous. Nature must be studied at first hand to be properly under
stood.

Through legislation also something may be accomplished. This
something may be very little, but a good, many littles taken together
aggregate much. Just as a single dollar may be the beginning of a
great fortune, so one apparently trifling measure can become the
starting-point of a sweeping reform. The first step to take in this
direction is to prevent the issue of more charters. Inflation is as bad
in education as it is in finance. No State which already contains more
than one fair college or university should permit another to be estab
lished. Let the millionaires who wish to help learning give their
money to institutions already in existence, or else riot give at all. No
benefaction is better than a mischievous benefaction. It is not long
since Massachusetts lost a splendid opportunity to inaugurate the
policy here recommended. The Methodist denomination of that State
were discussing the foundation of a new educational institution in or

478 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

near Boston. Harvard University at once made a very liberal offer ;
namely, that if the Methodists chose to establish merely a theological
school, and to place the same in Cambridge, it would give them rent
free the use of a lot of land for their building, and would permit their
students to have access to the great library, and to attend, without
expense, fifty courses of lectures. This magnificent offer was foolishly
declined, and the Methodists founded, only four miles away, the Bos
ton University a school for which there was no real demand, and
which signified merely sectarian folly. If at that time the Massachu
setts Legislature had refused to grant a charter, a good move would
have been made. The money bequeathed by Isaac Rich might per
haps have gone to the Wesleyan University at Middletown, making
that comparatively weak institution really strong. As it was, the
Methodist denomination, with more zeal than discretion, divided its
forces in New England, started a college within half a dozen miles of
at least three others, and contributed heavily toward the perpetuation
of the present vicious policy. Tufts College is another wealthy insti
tution close to Harvard, doing little save to adorn a high hill with
brick and mortar, and wholly unable to compete with its great rival.
All over the country there are to be found similar examples of what
is at once multiplication of means and division of forces. Galesburg,
Illinois, has two colleges : one Presbyterian, the other Universalist.
Nashville rejoices in four: one Methodist Episcopal, another Method
ist Episcopal South, a third for colored people, and the fourth vaguely
described as 4t non-sectarian." This senseless scattering of appliances
ought never to have been permitted. The true policy is, to establish
great central universities, around which as nuclei the theological
schools may cluster. A plan of consolidation among existing colleges
would be difficult to carry out, but to some such plan we must event
ually look for reform.

Perhaps at some future time it may also become possible to regu
late colleges by law, and to compel them to maintain certain stand
ards of scholarship. If a few institutions which are now doing sham
work should be summarily deprived of their charters, and so rendered
unable to confer degrees, much good would result. No Legislature,
however, could as yet be induced to take such a step, even supposing
it to be perfectly legal. A policy of this kind must follow after the
awakening of public sentiment. But the principle that every institu
tion of learning ought to be what it pretends to be, is unquestionable.
No kind of fraud is more objectionable than fraud in education.

As a matter of course, legislation upon the college problem would
have to be different in different States. Neither Rhode Island nor
New Hampshire need act at all upon the question ; but Ohio, Indiana,
and Illinois, ought to move vigorously. In these and other Western
States, espec : ally the States which sustain universities at public ex
pense, a healthy and judicious system of taxation might be desirable.

SOCIAL EXPERIMENTS IN UTAH. 479

If every college controlled by a private corporation was energetically
taxed, the weaklings would soon be either suppressed entirely or
forced to consolidate with other stronger institutions. Ohio alone
has at least a dozen colleges which taxation would affect in this way.
At present, they are public nuisances ; united, they might become a
source of public good.

SOCIAL EXPEKIMESTTS IN UTAH.

BY J. H. BEADLE.

rriHE social anomaly of Utah is of interest not only to the poli-
-L tician and the philanthropist, but also to the scientific student
of society, whose object is simply to find out how the thing works.
Though not claiming to be a sociologist, I have had considerable
opportunity to observe the operation of social forces among the
Mormons, and in this article I wish to present some conclusions
that I have formed relating chiefly to the economical aspect of the
matter.

Judging from the tone of much of the Eastern press, one might
conclude that most thinkers regarded Utah as an exception to the
rules which govern other human societies ; as we read frequent eulo-
gies on its people and their progress, coupled with innocent wonder
that such institutions could have produced such results. It seems to
be conceded by these writers that in one part of the world a whole
people may be Asiatic in religion and social type, and European in
energy and intellect ; at the same time going forward in wealth and
culture, and backward in intellectual and moral discernment. Facts
and figures may show, however, that what we should have looked for,
reasoning deductively, is really there, although a little disguised at
first. To treat it first in its purely economical aspects, I lay down
the broad principle that, in this climate and on this soil, a polygamous
community cannot get rich.

For, first, polygamy tends to the multiplication of the helpless,
to make the proportion of consumers to producers unnaturally large.
The political economist knows that the surplus year by year accumu
lated in the United States is small compared with the popular idea of
it rarely exceeding three per cent. This, funded and in turn made
productive, measures the general increase of wealth. Suppose, now,
some factor introduced which should consume this three per cent, of
increase : it would result that the people would be pressed down upon
the verge of poverty, and wealth would augment no faster than popu
lation, perhaps not so fast. Polygamy has just this effect.

True, the children are all the while growing toward the age of
self-support (which in the West may be set at eighteen years) ; and,

480 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

could all survive, this evil would in time correct itself. But, under
ordinary circumstances, forty per cent, of the race die before reaching
that age. So of this increase beyond monogamic rates all is a present
loss, and forty per cent, an absolute loss. But this is not the worst.
The ratio of consumers to producers must in any case vastly increase
before any of the young become self-supporting. Hence a much
smaller surplus, a smaller ratio to each of what sustains and cheers
life, and less to bestow upon the weaker, who have extra needs ; con
sequently a stronger pressure by the whole community on the means
of subsistence, a sharper struggle for existence, and a considerably
greater mortality among the feeble children. This in turn increases
the dead loss set forth above ; and thus polygamy causes the loss be
yond recovery of a part of the productive energy of a people appre
ciably greater than is lost in monogamy. This it is, doubtless, which
causes much of that large infant-mortality in Utah, which so many
have noted, and which has often been mistakenly attributed to the
purely physiological effects of polygamy. It is not that children are
born with weaker constitutions, but that too many of them are born
for the productive strength of the community to carry.

This position will be best appreciated by a comparison with any
locality in the Central West say, a rural region in Ohio. There
about one-fifth of the whole community are producers. One-half are
children, one-half the remainder women (whom political economy does
not consider as producers), and a small proportion infirm and aged.
Given freedom, monogamy, and natural conditions, this proportion
will maintain itself with almost perfect constancy. There will always
be a certain proportion of unmarried women. Families will average
four or five children each, and the annual increase will be such as the
productive capacity of the Commonwealth can carry, and leave a slight
surplus to add to its funded wealth.

Now, introduce polygamy, apportion the single women, and possi
bly import a few more. Give every fifth man two wives and two sets
of children, every tenth man three, and every fiftieth man from four
to twenty this is about the condition in Utah and what then ? In ten
years, instead of one-fifth, only one sixth or seventh of the whole popu
lation will be producers ; and the number of the helpless will be greater
than the aggregate strength of the community can provide a proper
surplus for. Inevitably, then, the whole population will press harder
on the means of subsistence, there will be less abundant nourishment,
and a weakening of vitality among the poorest, and, in no long time,
a marked increase of mortality among the children thus imperfectly
nourished ; for thus does inexorable Nature restore the balance with
a stern justice untempered by mercy. That Utah polygamy causes
more children to be born is unquestioned ; whether it would result in
a greater permanent increase of the population is very doubtful. It
certainly is not true that the polygamous races increase faster than

SOCIAL EXPERIMENTS IN UTAH. 481

the monogamous ; as witness Germans and Turks, Russians and Per
sians, Britons and Hindoos.

Similarly, polygamy would add from 30,000 to 40,000 children per
year to the population of Massachusetts, with no increase whatever in
the number of producers. In eighteen years, at least 500,000 non-pro
ducers would be added to the Commonwealth. The first result would
be, as the pressure slowly increased, that children would be withdrawn
from school at an earlier age, and put to severer tasks, women would
more and more be forced into the field and workshop, with still a de
cided increase of poverty. Despite these extra exertions against it,
cases of want would greatly multiply ; all the weaker constitutions
would encounter extra risks, because there would be both extra exac
tions upon them, and less surplus to provide for their extra wants ;
and thus the evil temporarily avoided in one direction would come
around with redoubled force in another. Where monogamy, legally
enforced, possibly prevents the birth of 30,000 children annually,
polygamy would in time result in more than 30,000 extra deaths ;
there would, meantime, be less of average food, clothing, school-
books, cheap excursions, and healthful amusements, less of everything
that makes life possible or desirable, a decided increase in the aggre
gate of unhappiuess, and still a dead loss in the wealth of the com
munity. That all these results are to be witnessed in Utah is the
testimony of-travelers of every shade of belief, though Utah is a new
country, and free from many of the difficulties which would be met
with in Massachusetts.

At this point a side-issue presents itself, which it may be well to
consider. My observation in Utah, and comparison with Eastern com
munities, convince me that there is a certain normal rate of increase,
beyond which it is scarcely possible for an Anglo-Saxon community
to go ; or, if possible, very undesirable. I mean, of course, natural
increase, immigration being left out of the account. Settle a new
country with nearly equal numbers of the sexes, and the population
will increase very rapidly as long as the unappropriated wealth of
Nature continues ; it will even double, from natural causes alone,
every twenty-five years, until most of the land is occupied. Then a no
ticeable decline in the rate of increase will ensue ; and such rate will
decrease with almost constant regularity as the population increases.
It will be manifest in three ways : people will marry later in life, suc
cessively larger numbers will remain unmarried, and the average num
ber of children to each family will be less. The large number of
unmarried women in Massachusetts, the considerably smaller number
in Indiana, and the very small number in California, are thus seen to
be legitimate results of the relative ages of those communities. Of
course, new inventions, enabling each producer to get more of the
necessaries of life from the same amount of labor, will have a similar
effect to that of unappropriated natural wealth, and this enables some

VOL. IX. 31

482 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the oldest countries to still maintain a slight increase. But, ulti
mately, these growing communities must reach a condition in which a
veVy considerable part of the population will remain unmarried.

Is it possible to change any part of this by artificial methods,
such as law or preaching, to increase the number of marriages ? I
think not. And, if it were possible, no matter on what grounds of
morality or expediency urged, I firmly believe it would result in a
decrease of the average happiness, and ultimately in a social degen
eracy. Those philanthropists who lament with such frequency the
relative decrease in marriages may justly rest for a season from their
jeremiads. It is not the extravagance of women, the selfishness of
men, nor yet the ambition of parents and the dissipation of contem
poraneous society, that causes the decline. A decided majority of
those men who remain single till late in life, or permanently, are
among the most prudent and economical, often carrying both quali
ties to an extreme. " Stingy old bachelor " has passed into a proverb.
The single man who follows some legitimate business is filling his
place in an old community as well as the married man. He adds one
to the producers, frrom this evil, if it is an evil, there can be no
artificial remedy in an old society ; it is to be borne as a necessary
consequence of the constitution of Nature, and alleviated only by each
individual s mental cultivation. This principle may also be modestly
commended to those enthusiastic patriots who calculate our probable
population in the year 1900. One and all, they expect the percentage
of increase to continue the same, which cannot possibly be. It was
less from 1860 to 1870 than from 1850 to 1860; and will be still less
from 18YO to 1880. The best places are seized upon, and population
must now go back and fill up the odd corners left by those who had
the first pick of Nature s wealth. The phenomenon of rapidly-grow
ing States, like Illinois and Iowa, will never be witnessed again in
this nation ; for no such bodies of land are to be found anywhere west
of longitude 96.

It is fitting that I should here notice one powerful corrective to
the natural tendency of polygamy in Utah the non-Mormon popula
tion. It now numbers about 15,000, and includes at least four men
to one woman. It is customary to divide the people of Utah into
two classes, but it should be three : the Orthodox Saints, the " Hick
ory Mormons," or Liberals, and Gentiles. The second class consists
mostly of the native young Mormons, born in the Church, but almost
universally freethinkers; for Mormonism in a family never outlasts
one generation. The Orthodox may safely be set at 60,000, still more
than one-half the whole population men and women devoted to
Brigham Young and the priesthood, and ready to go into polygamy
or anything else at his bidding. The " Hickory Mormons " are about
half as numerous ; and in the various proportions of the sexes between
these three classes is the most curious feature of Utah. The Liberals

SOCIAL EXPERIMENTS IN UTAH. 483

alone are in natural social conditions, men and women being about
equal in numbers; while of the Orthodox there are probably five
females to four males. It is of course impossible to be numerically
exact ; but my observations in all the towns of the Territory, and in
the mining-camps (Gentile), convince me that the following exhibit is
very near the exact truth:

Orthodox Saints males 27,000, females 33,000

" Hickory Mormons " " 15,000, " 15,000

Gentiles " 12,000, " 3,000

Total " 54,000 " 51,000

Male excess 3,000

The census of 1870 showed a male excess of 2,056, but the great
Gentile increase since that time will make it 3,000, if not more. The
above table includes all ages.

Observe how unequal are the social conditions. In a purely Mor
mon town there is often an evident surplus of women of a marriage
able age. In a mining town, such as Alta, Bingham, or Ophir, there
is a distressing scarcity. In one such town of my acquaintance with
1,000 inhabitants there are barely children enough for a small school,
and not women enough to form a sewing-circle ! Throughout the
Territory the mining towns (Gentile) are some distance up in the
mountains, while all the agricultural settlements (Mormon) are neces
sarily in the valleys. Seeing that human nature is what it is, whether
the grand passion be regarded from the moral or merely physical
standpoint, one might conclude that the mountaineers would descend
upon the valley towns and repeat in more modern style the epic of
unwived Rome and the Sabines. This has been prevented by the
lack of social intercourse between the two classes, and still more by
the vast differences in their education, and habits of life and thought.
As time softens their prejudices, marriages " across the religion," as
our local phrase has it, are becoming more frequent.

I have laid down certain general principles from which we might,
reasoning deductively, expect certain results; my observation fully
confirms those results. I do not know of a man whose condition has
been improved by polygamy, while I could name a score it has reduced
to poverty. I cite a few cases within my knowledge, giving no names,
but assuring the reader that they are well known to all old residents
of Utah:

A has five wives, children by all, and a civil position which gives
him $200 per month. In a monogamous community a permanent
position of that kind would enable a man of business ability to accumu
late wealth. To A with his five wives it is only what $40 per month
would be to a monogamist. Despite the great advance in the value
of his real estate, he is to-day on the verge of bankruptcy, and unable
to properly care for his families.

484 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

B is a man of uncommonly fine business abilities, and would any
where in the States have long since been a millionaire. He has had
live wives, and reared twenty children, besides having lost some by
death. Five times in his life (so he tells me) he has had a good start ;
now he is practically without means, the rent of his real estate being
consumed in the payment of debts incurred in caring for his family.
For years at a time he was never without one or more children sick,
and has been literally compelled to repudiate one of his wives, who is
supported by her son. Two others have died, and by the most heroic
exertions he is barely able to provide for the other two and their
seven children, who are still too young to assist.

C holds a very high position in the Mormon Church, and two civil
offices, all with good salaries and fine opportunities. In the early
days, when the Church ruled everything, the Mormon Legislature
made large grants to him of pasture-lands, timber-lands, and water-
privileges, to all of which he enjoyed the exclusive right for twenty
years. He has had six or seven wives, and children in proportion.
Of several fine pieces of property he owns most are mortgaged to
their full value, and he is often cruelly embarrassed for money. With
such opportunities he should now have been ready to retire with a
fortune.

D is an apostle with five wives and a good family to each. Hav
ing always been more a missionary than trader, he is now actually
an object of charity. It is openly charged, and not very strenuously
denied, that one of his wives died of want ; all the others either sup
port themselves or are supported by their children, the old gentleman
not being able to support even one family. So runs the list. Even
Brigham Young, with all his opportunities, cannot be considered very
wealthy. He has repeatedly sworn in his entire property at less than
half a million, and in his " answer " to the suit of Ann Eliza he put
it at $600,000. I should not call that great wealth, for a man with a
hundred and twenty children, grandchildren, and sons-in-law, hanging
on his financial skirts. The assessed wealth of Utah does not ex
ceed $28,000,000, of which it is known that the Gentile minority owns
about one-half. This would leave the 90,000 Mormons no more
than $140 each, a lower average, I believe, than in any other part of
the United States. The question might well be raised in Congress,
whether polygamy did not bring its own punishment to the men ; and,
if their case alone was to be considered, we might appropriately let
it alone. An old lawyer who attends to much of their business gives
me his opinion that in ten years nearly all the leading Mormons will
be bankrupt.

Another peculiar effect of polygamy I advance, with the sugges
tion that it may be due somewhat to other causes. As families in
crease so rapidly in size, amounting in some instances within my
knowledge to fifty children of one man, there must be a vast increase

SOCIAL EXPERIMENTS IN UTAH. 485

in the number of deaths ; the father then must suffer an amount of
domestic affliction terrible to contemplate, or undergo a progressive
hardening of sensibility more to be deplored, even down to a point
where the death of an offspring ceases to afflict. To use an awkward
commercial phrase, can a man with fifty children, reasonably certain
to follow fifteen or twenty to the grave, afford to mourn the death of
each one? More than one bishop has a considerable graveyard filled
with his own dead. One is said to have seventeen children buried
in one row the longest grave not over four feet. One within my
knowledge has thirty-two children living and nineteen dead. What
ever might be the result under happier circumstances, I can only say
this of the Mormons : No people in my ken regard death so little, es
pecially the death of young children. They claim that this indiffer
ence is a product of their faith, "Death is but a step to a higher
sphere ;" but I apprehend a lively religious faith, even to the point
of belief that an infant is in paradise, does not have that effect. I
can understand that something of the same result might follow an
excessively large family anywhere ; and on this point, too, my obser
vation in Utah convinces me that there is a certain normal size for a
family, best attained and A r ery rarely exceeded in monogamy, and
that an increase beyond it is productive of misery rather than domes
tic happiness.

A very curious and subtile effect of polygamy is a tendency toward
extreme reticence, habitual concealment of the feelings. It is often
said by the Mormon preachers, and daily observation confirms it, that
no people in the world keep their feelings and thoughts to themselves
so well as the Mormons. Your host may be torn by internal torments,
but you will sit at his table many a day ere you discover it. This
might be well enough, perhaps, but with it is closely connected an ha
bitual deceit, which, of certain kinds, is all but universal in Utah. Its
genesis is partly to be sought in polygamy. A man with more than
one wife necessarily lives a lie, pretending an equal affection which he
cannot possibly feel ; and a policy of concealment is absolutely neces-
.sary to maintain peace. Going daily or weekly from one wife to an
other, he must preserve a determined reticence as to all that passed
with the first, or resort to deceit. The wife, too, has her reasons for
concealment or prevarication ; it never would do to reveal her actual
feelings if she means to retain her share of his affections. Whether
this, continued through all the months of ante-natal growth, has a
marked effect on the offspring, is a question for another branch of
science; but certainly that or something else has affected the children
of Utah. Deceit is a habit which easily extends from one thing to
many, and the effects of this continual falsehood in polygamy are only
evil and that continually. The polygamous nations are universally
more deceitful in their social relations than the monogamous.

With this is to be connected another method in which polygamy

4 86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

prevents the accumulation of wealth. It tends to the dissipation of
social energy. The father to more than one family cannot possibly
be a lather to either. No man can duplicate himself; and he who be
gins by having three families and three homes, ends by having none.
To this must be added the constant fear, of late years in Utah, of in
terference by the Government; and thus has been added a new and
fearful element of uncertainty to the affairs of life. One result has
been to engender suspicion, and a general lack of the monogamic feel
ing of fixedness; and these in turn prevent large organizations for
business. Whatever be the true theory, as things are now, it must
be admitted that the family is the cement of the civil structure the
unit, so to speak, from which are successively built up the school-dis
trict, township, county, State, and nation and that without the unit
of organization the higher forms could not be evolved. Whatever,
then, introduces an element of uncertainty into the family, weakens
social cohesion and lessens the ability for organization. Accordingly,
we see that no polygamous people ever established a republic or even
a remote approach to one ; and that in Utah every kind of organiza
tion, for business or politics, is headed and managed by the priest
hood. Without them it could not have been organized at all. Social
cohesion is the one indispensable element in a republic : that a people
may practise self-government it is necessary that an overwhelming
majority should be able to trust each other, transact business, and
regulate their conduct without any government at all. Their social
cohesion is certainly weaker among a polygamous people, and must
in some way be supplemented ; accordingly, theocracy is their natural
form of government, and with it springs up a paternalism which aims
to take care of the affairs of everybody.

The result of these forces working together gives us the clew to
the whole history of Utah. For twenty years the priesthood was ab
solute spiritually and temporally; the Church directed everything
and governed everybody ; every detail of private life was regulated
by " counsel ; " every public act of the citizen was the subject of
some law. Inside the Church proper were three organized govern
ments : the ecclesiastical, the civil, and the financial and industrial.
The civil government of the Territory, under the organic act of Utah,
passed by Congress, September 9, 1850, was scarcely known except
as a convenience by which the Church carried out decrees previously
agreed upon in the School of the Prophets. The incumbents of the
various offices made elective by the congressional act were first appoint
ed by the Church ; the Mormon people then cast a unanimous vote for
them under the supervision of the priesthood, every voter s ballot be
ing put on record. Only two instances are known to have occurred
of an attempt at political reform. In one of the southern districts
some young Mormons nominated a candidate not on the Church ticket
and elected him to the Legislature. Reaching the city he was promptly

SOCIAL EXPERIMENTS IN UTAH. 487

cited before the High Council, as promptly resigned, and the Church
nominee was declared elected. A few dissenters in the Thirteenth
Ward of Salt Lake City combined with non-Mormons and elected
Bishop Woolley to the City Council. He was cited before the School
of the Prophets, and subjected to savage abuse by Brigham Young,
humbly apologized for his presumption, and resigned ; and the regu
lar nominee took the seat. It was the last attempt of that nature
inside the Church. That patriotic class of religionists who want an
amendment declaring ours a " Christian Protestant Government "
would have been delighted with the state of Utah ; it was a " religious
government " in the broadest sense of the words. The modified
theocracy set up in New England by the Puritans was red-republican
communism in comparison.

Here and there an individual grew restive under this regime, but
took good care to say nothing openly ; for of all reformers those who
strive to rescue men from a mental slavery receive the bitterest oppo
sition from those they seek to aid. If such found the condition intol
erable, they quietly slipped out of the Territory and sought a com
munity where public opinion was not so oppressively unanimous. If,
as sometimes happened, one failed in the attempt, there was a " man
missing supposed to have been killed by the Indians " as duly re
ported in the Church paper. As to the fate of these missing men we
are mostly without legal proof, but find a number of candid state
ments in various sermons preached by the heads of the Church. As
instance the following from Brigham Young :

" Now, you apostates, keep your tongues still, lest sudden destruction come
upon you. I say, rather than apostates shall flourish here, I will unsheath my
bowie-knife and conquer or die ! Now, you nasty apostates, clear out, or judg
ment will be laid to the line and righteousness to the plummet. If you say it is
all right, raise your hands." (All hands up.) " Let us call upon the Lord to
assist us in this and every other good work."

Of course, if we should see this quotation in a hostile report, we
should reject it at once as a fabrication ; but it is in the " Journal of
Discourses," with a score of similar passages, the whole book being
published by the Mormon Church and indorsed on the title-page by
Brigham Young and his councilors. The curious reader may find the
doctrine of killing apostates explained and commended in that work,
viz.: vol. i., pp. 72, 73, 82, 83; vol. ii., pp. 165, 166, et seq. ; vol. iii.,
pp. 226, 234, 235, 237, 241, 246, 247, 279, and in many other passages.

The results of this peculiar system of securing unanimity were
curious indeed well worth the study of the sociologist. The society
became perfectly homogeneous. All traces of mental independence
vanished. The people even ceased to care for it apparently. A rigid
paternalism governed every detail of the social organism under the
guise of what was called " counsel by the priesthood." There was

4 88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

counsel to sell and counsel to buy, to go abroad or remain at home,
to build a house, open a farm, buy a cow, or take another wife. The
remnants of individualism which the people had brought with them
from their native lands seem to have completely died out as early as
1855. Natural selection of course operated powerfully in aid of this
tendency, coupled with the isolated condition of the country. From
one to three thousand fresh converts arrived every year; those who
could not submit at once and completely, slipped out of the Territory
as soon as possible, and the residuary mass settled into a condition
of unchanging homogeneity. That class of thinkers who maintain
that government should take care of the people s business, finances,
and morals, by prohibitory enactments as to foreign goods and native
whiskey, would have been amazed to see how thoroughly Utah had
carried out this policy. All the business of the people was regulated
by the rulers ; paper-money was issued by the city under the direc
tion of the Church; nobody could sell liquor without the consent of
Brigham, and the distance from markets created a protective tariff"
200 per cent, heavier than a Congress of Greeleys and Careys would
have dared to impose. Stranger still, the system was, as to the ob
jects aimed at, a perfect success : a whole community voluntarily
abdicated each man his personal sovereignty, and were taken care of
by their priestly advisers with a cruel kindness which the ordinary
American need not hope to comprehend. Even the desire for inde
pendence died out. An original thought came to be regarded as a
sin to be repented of, confessed, and put away. Each successive and
abortive attempt at something better resulted in making the popula
tion still more submissive. Where vigorous preaching had been nec
essary in 1850, a move of the hand was sufficient in 1860 ; where argu
ment was still employed in 1860, a hint was enough in 1868. Toward
the close of this period, and before the disturbing Gentile invasion,
business took me on a lengthy tour through the remote settlements,
where the results of over-government showed themselves most com
pletely in the perversion or stupefaction of the mental faculties. I
heard men maintain with vehemence that Jesus Christ was a practical
polygamist ; that the Gentile world was to be utterly desolated before
1890, and the remnant submit to the Mormon priesthood; that a re
publican government was a rebellion against God, in that men sought
to govern themselves without counsel of an inspired priesthood and a
prophet divinely appointed; and that a man could not obtain honor
able rank in heaven unless he had children on earth. I heard women
protest that they would not live as the one wife of a man if possible
to go into polygamy ; that there was no exaltation in heaven to an
unmarried woman ; that it was a deadly sin to refuse to enter polyg
amy ; and that a woman or man who voluntarily remained unmarried
would be a servant to the Saints to all eternity. Both sexes accepted
as a religious verity that slavery and polygamy were established by

SOCIAL EXPERIMENTS IN UTAH. 489

direct command of God ; that the Government was at war with the
Almighty in the abolition of one and disapproval of the other; and
that the mass of the people of the United States were scoundrels who
deserved death, and would soon be visited with all the plagues of the
Apocalypse. And these people did not seem to be aware that they
were insane. They argued earnestly and swore fluently in defense of
their religion, quoted the Bible voluminously in favor of slavery and
concubinage, and declaimed about the Prince of Peace, the way of
salvation, and control of passion, till they were black in the face with
anger. At the autumn conference that year Brigham pronounced the
h at "No trade with outsiders;" and at a wave of his hand all the
commercial relations of 75,000 people were changed in a day ; a dozen
mercantile firms had their business destroyed, and were driven from
the country. Some of them could not even dispose of their stock on
hand, and were forced into bankruptcy. That autumn I visited one
settlement, near Salt Lake City, where a cane-mill was run night and
day on custom-work. A year afterward I passed that way again ; the
cane-mill was resting in idleness, and the people hauling their cane
miles away to another settlement. The owner of the mill had apos
tatized ; the word from the Tabernacle had gone forth, " Drop him ! "
and for the first, and I hope the last, time in my life I got sight of that
unique theological phenomenon an apostate cane-mill.

Whether the moral condition was then tolerably good or very bad
cannot be determined satisfactorily. There was such a dead calm
upon the surface of society, and such a singular reticence among all
classes, that only the most atrocious cases ever came to light often
those were not known or suspected until some of the parties had apos
tatized. No account was ever given in the Mormon papers of any
crimes committed in the remote settlements, and so complete was the
surveillance of the secret police that a case of seduction was almost
immediately discovered and settled by having the parties married at
once, a previous marriage of the man being no hinderance. Of two
strangers visiting the Territory, one would say: "These are the most
orderly, law-abiding, and happy people on earth ; " the other : " There
is neither liberty nor law neither honest, earnest thought nor vigor
ous happiness ; there is a centralized despotism, and Brigham Young
is king." Possibly some idea of the moral tone may be gained by
noting the prominent characters chosen for the offices, and presuma
bly representing the priesthood and people. John D. Lee, as well
known then as now as the wholesale murderer of Mountain Meadows,
only a few months after that awful crime came to represent Iron
County in the Legislature, received the encomiums due a faithful pub
lic servant, and went home with a young wife, " sealed "to him by
Brigham Young. His colleague in murder, Isaac C. Haight, was also
his colleague in the Legislature, and was in like manner rewarded
with a young wife. Both these men continued high in office in the

49 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Mormon Church until the United States marshals chased them into
the mountains. Robert T. Burton, who murdered four of the " Mor-
risites " after their surrender, was rewarded with the offices of collec
tor, sheriff, and bishop, and two extra wives given him. Bill Hick-
man, who confesses to twenty murders, was a member of the Legisla
ture, and had during his career ten wives. Samuel Smith, Bishop of
Boxelder, rejoices, presumably, in the ownership of six wives, of whom
two are his brother s daughters. It is not conclusive that these men
represented the average moral tone, as they were appointed by Brig-
ham before being elected by the voters ; nevertheless, I do not remem
ber having heard the appointment spoken of with disapprobation by
the people. I visited both Haight and Lee at their homes in Southern
Utah, and, while the latter was under some popular condemnation,
the former was a leading citizen of Toquerville. Polygamy, like sla
very, is necessarily the practice of a minority a select aristocracy ;
but in both cases it is to be noted that the great majority who could
not enjoy its benefits, if any, were its most ardent defenders. Could
this social and political condition have continued three generations,
then would the future scientist have found in Utah an entirely new
variety of our species Saxons without a constitutional government,
Britons with no consciousness of a personal sovereignty, Americans
lacking even the wish for a republic ; wives willing to share a hus
band s heart, maidens looking for an "exaltation" in polygamy, and
children with blood relationship so mixed that no " heraldry Harvey "
could ever have succeeded in tracing the circulation. From a scien
tific standpoint, it is almost a pity the Gentile could not have left
Utah untouched for a century it would have been such an interest
ing experiment. With the Gentile invasion and establishment of
United States authority, the experiment practically comes to an end;
but, let it be dealt with as wisely and mercifully as it may, the break
up must be attended with fearful suffering.

SKETCH OF PROF. J. S. DEWBERRY, M. D., LL. D.

"TOHN" STRONG NEWBERRY, whose portrait we give in the
*J present number of the MONTHLY, was born December 22, 1822,
at Windsor, Connecticut. He is sprung from old Puritan stock, his
ancestors having formed part of a colony which, in 1635, emigrated
from Dorchester in the colony of Massachusetts Bay, and made the
first settlement in Connecticut, at Windsor. Many members of the
Newberry family earned high distinction by their services in the field
and in the council during the colonial period, in the War of Indepen
dence, and in the later history of Connecticut.

SKETCH OF PROF. J. S. NEW BERRY. 491

The grandfather of J. S. Newberry, General Roger Newberry, an
officer in the army during the Revolutionary War, was for many years
a member of the Governor s Council ; he was also one of the directors
of the Connecticut Land Company, proprietors of a great part of the
" Western Reserve," in Northern Ohio. His son Henry, father of
the subject of this notice, in 1824, with his family, emigrated from
Windsor to the Western Reserve, and founded the town of Cuyahoga
Falls, in Summit County.

Young Newberry received his academic education at the West
ern Reserve College, from which institution he graduated in 1846.
Two years later he received the degree of Doctor of Medicine
from the Cleveland Medical College. The years 1849- 50 he spent
in study and in foreign travel, and in 1851 he began the practice
of medicine at Cleveland. But the life of a practising physician
was distasteful to Dr. Newberry, as affording but little opportunity
for scientific study, for which he had from boyhood evinced great
aptitude. Hence, in May, 1855, he accepted an appointment as assist
ant surgeon and geologist to Lieutenant Williamson s expedition for
the exploration of the country lying between San Francisco and the
Columbia River. The results of this expedition are published in the
Pacific Railroad "Reports;" but Dr. Newberry s report on "The
Geology, Botany, and Zoology of Northern California and Oregon "
also appears in a separate quarto volume of 300 pages, with 48 plates.

He next, in 1857- 58, was attached to an expedition under the
command of Lieutenant J. C. Ives, commissioned to explore and navi
gate the Colorado River, so as to open a route of communication
with the army in Utah. An iron steamer, constructed in Philadel
phia, was taken in sections to the Gulf of California, where it was put
together and launched. The expedition navigated the river for the
distance of 500 miles. Above the point reached by the steamer the
course of the river, for hundreds of miles, is through deep canons with
vertical walls, in some places over a mile in height. The report on
the Colorado region, drawn up conjointly by Lieutenant Ives and Dr.
Newberry, gives a graphic description of perhaps the most remark
able portion of the earth s surface. In the preface to the report, Lieu
tenant Ives speaks of Newberry s observations as constituting " the
most interesting material gathered by the expedition."

The following year (1859) Dr. Newberry was ordered to join a
party sent out by the War Department, to report to Captain Ma-
comb, for the exploration of the San Juan and Upper Colorado Rivers.
The party traversed a large part of Southern Colorado, Utah, North
ern Arizona, and New Mexico, adding greatly to the sum of geo
graphical knowledge, and opening a region of singular interest and
of enormous mineral wealth. This expedition determined the point
of junction of the Grand and Green Rivers, forming the Colorado ;
further, it explored the valley of the San Juan, a river whose banks

492 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

for hundreds of miles are lined with the ruined stone houses and
towns of an extinct race. Dr. Newberry s report of this expedition
was published recently.

Upon the outbreak of the war, Dr. Newberry was elected a mem
ber of the Sanitary Commission, and in September, 1861, he was
chosen secretary of its Western department. He had supervision of
the affairs of the Commission in the Mississippi Valley, with head
quarters at first in Cleveland, then in Louisville. In this position he
displayed executive abilities of a high order. Branches of the Com
mission were, through his efforts, established in the chief cities of the
West, and measures taken for the permanent and effective care of
the sick and wounded.

In 1866 he was appointed Professor of Geology in the School of
Mines of Columbia College, New York, which position he still holds.
In 1869 he received from Governor Hayes the appointment as State
Geologist of Ohio, and was commissioned to make a geological sur
vey of that State. The work was carried on by Dr. Newberry and
his assistants with extraordinary vigor, and was completed at the
close of the year 1874.

The report of this survey is now in process of publication. Two
" Reports of Progress," and four volumes of the " Final Report,"
illustrated with a large number of finely-executed maps and plates,
have already appeared. Four volumes more, and a geological map
of the State, still remain to be published. This work, though exe
cuted with unexampled rapidity, has not been carelessly done. The
record already made is proof of its thoroughness, and shows that it
will compare favorably with any similar survey made in this country
or elsewhere; indeed, it is in the highest degree creditable to the
State of Ohio, and to the geologist in charge.

Prof, Newberry s eminence as a scientific man is unquestioned.
As a geologist and paleontologist he ranks among the foremost of the
time. His contributions to the literature of these branches of science
have been numerous and valuable, being chiefly in the departments
of general geology, fossil plants, and fossil fishes. He is a member
of most of our American scientific associations, and of many similar
European bodies ; he was one of the original corporators of the Na
tional Academy of Sciences, has been President of the American Asso
ciation for the Advancement of Science, and is at the present time
President of the New York Academy of Sciences (formerly Lyceum
of Natural History).

CORRESP ONDENCE.

493

CORRESPONDENCE.

EARLY TRANSCONTINENTAL EXPLORA
TIONS.

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

SIR : Judge Daly s address to the Amer
ican Geographical Society, in the May
number of THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,
it appears to me, might lead the reader to
infer that little was known, before General
Fremont s journey, of our country between
the Mississippi and Pacific. And a like
opinion seems to have been entertained
when he was a candidate for President, for
it was then said that he was the discoverer
of the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains ;
whereas it had been long known and used
by explorers before 1832, ten years before
his journey, when I passed that way to
Oregon, some account of which can be seen
in a letter from me to Prof. Amos Eaton, of
Troy, published in Simmon s Journal in
1833 or 1834, and a communication from
myself to the same in 1835. But, as this
may look a little egotistical, I will speak of
those who traversed those regions earlier,
but by no means to detract from the de
served honor due to those later explorers
named by the judge in his address, one of
whom, Lieutenant Gunnison, I knew well,
as this place was for a time his home, as it
is still of his family ; and as they were the
first to explore the wide country from the
Mississippi to the Pacific, Lewis and Clark,
and their companions, should be the first
mentioned, for, till their exploration, it was
indeed a terra incognita. Sent out by the
Government in 1806, after its purchase as a
part of Louisiana, it took them more than
two years to perform the journey, crossing
the mountains by very difficult routes, the
more feasible ones, the South Pass and
others, being of after-discovery. Well do
I recollect in my childhood hearing one of
their number, a Mr. Ordway, describe their
journey, and how the bad Indians followed
them for a number of days to restore some
articles they had accidentally left. Lewis
and Clark s journey was before the day of
what is called the modern sciences, for to

them, geologically, the grand basaltic col
umns on the Columbia were " high black
rocks." Then, in 1810, came Mr. Astor s
grand enterprise of establishing the fur-
business on the Columbia. He not only
sent a vessel round by sea with men and
supplies, but sent a party, headed by Mr.
Ramsay Crooks, across the country to meet
them. He met so many obstacles, especial
ly among the mountains and canons along
the lower Lewis River, that he did not reach
Astoria till the second year. The next
year, to bring an express from there to Mr.
Astor, a Mr. Robert Stewart, late of Detroit,
crossed the mountains and plains with only
half a dozen men. But Astor was cut
short in his business in Oregon, for in 1812
a party of the British Northwestern Com
pany crossed the mountains and descended
the Columbia, carrying the news to Astoria
of the war, and that a war-ship was on the
way to take their fort. So Astor s agents
there sold out to them his interest, and those
British traders, afterward consolidated with
and known as the Hudson Bay Company,
even after the boundary-line was settled be
yond the mountains, controlled the fur-
trade from the Pacific to the Atlantic in
British America, and down the coast to
California, and knew every corner of it to
the Arctic Ocean, wherever the beaver
clipped a twig of swam its mountain-
streams. General Ashley, and other Amer
ican fur-traders, early also carried the
trade to the mountains, and became as well
acquainted with them on our side, if we
except that wondrous canon-region lately so
ably explored by Powell and others. Mr.
Sublelle, with whom and his trappers we in
1832 traveled, had then made his seventh
annual journey to the mountains, and we
left the State of Missouri on the deep-worn
Santa Fe trail, over which trade was car
ried on to that place ; leaving which, and
crossing the Kansas River, between that and
the Platte we overtook Major Bonneville,
traveling with wagons to the mountains,
where he passed the winter, and of whom,

494

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

as well as of Astoria, Mr. Irving gives an in
teresting account. We parted with the trap
pers on what I now know to be the Humboldt
River of Utah, and in six weeks reached the
Hudson Bay Company s fort, Walla Walla,
through a country so poor in furs that it
had been little frequented by their traders.
So the Indians showed us their usual native
kindness and hospitality. And here let me
say, after a long acquaintance with them,
that Indians, uncontamiuated by the whites,
are honest, truthful, and hospitable.

JOHN .BALL.
GBA>-D RAPIDS, MICHIGAN, May 5, 1876.

THE DISCOVERT OF A SPECIES OF BOR
ING MOTH IN FLORIDA.
To the Editor of The Popular Science Monthly.
THE notice in the June number of THE
POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY (p. 250) of the
species of Ophideres, moths which possess
a trunk so rigid as to be able to pierce the
rinds of oranges and suck their juice, has
brought to light the occurrence of a species
of the genus in Florida. The specimen
which I have examined was taken by Mr.
Roland Thaxter, of Newtonville, Massa
chusetts, near Appalachicola, Florida, on

March 24th of this year. Mr. Thaxter, who
is already known for his collections of our
Northern Noctuce, preparing them beauti
fully for the cabinet, has added greatly to
our knowledge of this group ; the species
Eutolype Rolandi and Dicopig Thaxterianus
have been named for him. The present
discovery, which he has made during a win
ter s trip to Florida, is equally interesting.
The Florida specimen seems to me undoubt
edly to be Ophideres materna (Linn.), a spe
cies proper to the East Indies, but which
Guene"e records also from Brazil, conject
uring that it had been transported thither
by commerce. I have examined the tere-
brant trunk under the microscope, and it
agrees in the main with the representation
of that of Ophideres fullonica given in THE
POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY (p. 261). It is
not possible to compare it more nearly
without mounting the end of the trunk as a
microscopic object, which the rarity of the
single specimen prevents. It is not un
likely, now that the species is found, that it
will be discovered in larger numbers, while
the interesting question as to its introduc
tion into Florida will engage attention.
The most probable conjecture will associate
it with its food-plant.

A. R. GROTE.

EDITOR S TABLE.

THE PROMOTION OF SCIENCE.

THE importance of science is every
where conceded: As affording a
knowledge of the operations of Nature,
which can be taken advantage of by
multiplying the resources and increas
ing the productiveness of industry, and
by guiding art into the most economi
cal ways, everybody admits that sci
ence is doing a beneficent work for
the world. And even in the region of
ideas, as a basis for the formation of
opinions and a corrective of old errors,
the importance of science is freely ac
knowledged. That science is something
of universal moment, and of the deep
est interest it is almost superfluous to
argue ; its recognition is so far assured.

But science is also, and as a conse
quence of its importance, something to
be promoted. It is something of which
myriads of human beings scattered over
the globe know nothing ; which the
world got along without for more ages
than we can count; which slowly arose
in these latter centuries and grew against
steady resistance, and which has at last
among certain nations come to be a
separate interest cherished by a portion
of the cultivated classes, and so dis
tinctly recognized as needing care and
encouragement that many organizations
have arisen to promote these objects.
Royal societies for the "promotion of
natural knowledge," academies of sci
ence in all the chief cities, special socie-

EDITOR S TABLE.

495

ties devoted to each of the great branches
of science, local institutions, naturalists
clubs, and large popular associations
for the advancement of science, as in
Germany, France, England, and this
country, which hold their meetings in
the different cities so as to act upon
large numbers of people all these are
illustrations of the tendency to organize
for the promotion of science by increas
ing observations, experiments, and ori
ginal researches for the improvement
and extension of this kind of knowledge.
Nor are there many obstacles to these
modes of work, save those which spring
from its inherent difficulties. It is a
very expensive kind of study, involving
costly instruments, elaborate investiga
tions, and extensive collections the
sending of expeditions into remote and
unknown regions, and of ships around
the world to scrape the bottom of the
sea. The universally confessed impor
tance of such inquiries has already se
cured large appropriations for these
objects, and it may be expected that
in future private enterprise and govern
mental aid will become still more avail
able for these objects.

But there is another agency for the
promotion of science, which we hold to
be of far greater importance than all
these immediate means and instrumen
talities, and which the world has hardly
yet begun seriously to consider. We
refer to the alliance between science
and general education. Science has
hitherto accomplished its work with
but very imperfect assistance from this
source. Education in all its grades has
been in the interest of other classes,
and it does not even yet distinctly, or
fairly, recognize as a class the students
of Nature. There have been innumer
able institutions strongly endowed, and
ably equipped for the intellectual train
ing of lawyers, clergymen, physicians,
linguists, metaphysicians, historians, and
literary men, but the facilities for the
systematic training of scientific students
have been scanty, defective, or alto

gether wanting. Education was highly
organized before science arose, and the
old institutions not only did not en
courage the experimental study of Na
ture, but resisted it, with the whole
weight of their influence, for centuries.
The universities were creatures of the
church and the state, and devoted to
ideas, and ideals of culture, which were
unfavorable for the study of natural
things, and obstructive to scientific in
vestigation. The old educational insti
tutions have been, of course, greatly
modified and liberalized, in recent times,
yet tradition continues in the ascendant,
so that, although science has forced its
way into many of them, it is still re
garded with jealousy and treated as an
intruder. Though within the pale of
official recognition, it is dealt with as
something outside of the venerated cur
riculum of liberal study. It has not
been assimilated so as to become an
integral and necessary part of our mod
ern culture, and college authorities are
still perplexed to decide how much to
cbncede to it, and what to do with it.
Scientific men have, therefore, grown
up under unfavorable conditions, and
have not had those advantages of early
preparation, of cordial encouragement,
and of long and faithful discipline, which
the students in other departments have
freely enjoyed. It is under these grave
disadvantages that science has, thus far,
advanced. Education has been made
only very partially tributary to its prog
ress. When it takes its rightful place
in our schemes of study, when it is
honored as other acquirements are
honored, and when the higher insti
tutions offer the same facilities for pro
longed and thorough scientific disci
pline that they offer for training in
classics and mathematics, a step will
have been taken toward the general
promotion of science, more important
in its consequences than any measures
that have been hitherto adopted.

And yet this will be but a partial
step in the right direction. The bring-

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing of education into the full service
of science means much more than its
liberal acceptance by the higher schools.
Science is a vast and a permanent in
terest in human society, and in consid
ering the means of its advancement we
are bound to take account of those
deeper agencies which require time for
the accomplishment of their results.
More important for the general promo
tion of science than any change of policy
on the part of the colleges, will be its
recognition and adoption as a part of
the established work of primary and
common schools. The most urgent
question now, and fullest of import for
the future, is the relation which sci
ence is to take to elementary education.
Thus far, the course of science has been
a continuous battle, and it has only got
what it has conquered. Its claims have
been pressed by its advocates, and they
have been resisted by the partisans of
other studies, and we observe that the
instincts of the combatants are bringing
them rapidly to the vital issues of the
strife. As we have often said, the most
critical and important question between
the old education and the new is, which
shall have authority to form the first
impressions in childhood. The practi
cal inquiry is, How early shall children
be allowed to begin the study of science
in schools ? We can imagine a future
time, and we trust it is not far distant,
when such an inquiry will be regarded
as absurd. Science being an under
standing of natural things, and a child
being born into the order of Nature,
with a capacity for intelligence which
is awakened and unfolded only by its
intercourse with natural things, what
can be more preposterous than to raise
the question when a child shall begin to
have its attention thoughtfully directed
to the objects around it ? In this dawn
ing action of the mind upon sensible
things are found the rudiments of all
science. Obviously, the true require
ment is, that these germinal acquisitions
concerning the kinds, and properties,

and changes, and relations of things
around, shall become matters of early
attention, encouragement, and cultiva
tion, on the part of parents and teach
ers ; and, if this were intelligently and
skillfully given, the query could never
arise, When shall the study of science
begin ? But we are far enough from
that condition now. In accordance
with the prevailing ideas of education,
the child is got into the schoolroom as
early as possible, and, being started in
a course of acquisition in which science
is left out, the question at length arises,
If it is to be introduced at all, when
shall it commence ? The advocates of
the old education would never ask for
it. They would occupy childhood, and
youth, and manhood, with language,
grammar, and book- acquisitions, so that
the pupil and the student would get no
more knowledge of the laws and phe
nomena of Nature than they had before
this knowledge was discovered. And,
when pressed by the advocates of the
new education to make room for scien
tific studies, they defer it as long as they
can, and allow it as little time as pos
sible.

A very interesting controversy has
gone on for some time past, in the col
umns of Nature, as to how early science
is to be entered upon in the prepara
tory schools. All the writers profess to
represent the liberal side, yet some of
them who admit the importance of sci
ence assign it a low value as a means
of education, and think that children
should not touch a scientific subject in
school until they are well grounded in
Latin and geometry. This is substan
tially a surrender of the whole ground ;
yet it is the position taken in the great
mass of schools in which the sciences
are regarded as only fit for finishing
studies. The physicists and chemists
are more in earnest, and believe in the
educational usefulness and importance
of their subjects, but they seem more
concerned about the consideration given
to their chosen sciences than about tho

EDITOR S TABLE.

497

mental needs of children, and the adap- i
tation of objective studies to their early
cultivation. They would therefore begin
with physics and chemistry when boys
and girls are old enough to commence
simple experimenting ; that is, at per
haps the age of twelve or thirteen. Mr.
Wyles, of AllesleyPark College, claims
to have had the best success with chem
ical and physical experiments and the
use of the microscope, and he embodies
his views and results in the following
instructive passage :

" I believe that such knowledge as I have
indicated may be profitably given even to
very young boys. They learn thereby to
distinguish the precise features and qualities
of natural objects, and the conditions of or
dinary phenomena ; and such teaching un
doubtedly exercises in the best way the ob
serving powers, which develop much earlier
than the reflective faculty. I am inclined to
say that teaching elementary science to boys
from ten to thirteen is a greater success than
teaching grammar ; i. e., that the principles
involved are more easily seen, excite more
interest, and become therefore a better men
tal discipline. We rarely have boys come
to us with any knowledge of science, and,
when they have, it has generally been ac
quired from lectures, and is worthless as a
means of education. We do not lecture, but
do real hard class-work, and take periodical
examinations on this work, giving it equal
value in these and our grade examinations
with language and mathematics. We have
no reason to believe that this work interferes
with or deteriorates the work in language
and mathematics, in which subjects we find
our boys quite equal, and, except in very
rare cases, I may say, superior to incomers
of like power, and who have had no science-
teaching.

" The great number of men eminent for
their vast scientific attainments, who have
achieved this eminence in spite of our non-
scientific, I may almost say anti-scientific
system of education, clearly indicates that
many of us have an inherent scientific power
or genius surpassing our power in any other
direction. I plead for such that they have
the same chance of being floated on their
scientific voyage as the linguist and the
mathematician have on theirs : and I have
seen no satisfactory plea why they should
not. Value tor value, I claim for the science-
man a higher status in our present social

VOL. ix. 32

life than is due to either linguist or mathe
matician.

"My experience as a schoolmaster has
revealed to me many cases where the talent
for language or mathematics has been so
low that the education effected by these has
been of the meanest kind; or where the in
cessant failure has produced a stolid igno
rance, a kind of mental paralysis, most dis
heartening to all concerned. Such cases
have come into my hands, and I have seen
intelligence rekindled, and mental power
aroused, by simple science - teaching, and
the power even for other subjects enhanced
thereby."

But there are others who insist that
scientific studies may and should begin
much earlier, and their view must bo
adopted before society can ever reach
the solid and lasting advantages which
are to be gained by scientific education.
It is the teachers of natural history
that favor this view, maintaining that
the collection, observation, and com
parison of plants, insects, shells, etc.,
may be made highly instructive at a
period when chemical and physical ex
periments may not be undertaken. The
Rev. George Henslow ta,kes this de
cided position, and, in replying to Mr.
Wilson, of Kugby, in Nature, of April
20th, he has the following remarks:

" Before twelve, I agree with Mr. Wil
son, that practical chemistry should not be
gin. But, Mr. Wilson says, Science should
be introduced into a school, beginning at
the top and going downward gradually to a
point which will be indicated by experi
ence. Surely this is inverting a fundamen
tal principle of education, arid we may ask,
Why should science be thus singled out?
Why not begin at the top with Latin and
arithmetic and work downward? Science,
however, has its elements and its ad
vanced stages, like everything else. The
soundest method seems to me to select the
science for each age or capacity of pupils,
and for the teacher himself to adapt the
branch selected to them. Let him begin
with botany with children of the age of
six, if he pleases and by using the schedule
he will find it almost self-adapting to the
child s powers. Physical geography might
come next, with pupils from eight to twelve ;
then the experimental sciences or geology
from twelve upward. The observing of the

498

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

habits of animals might go along with any
other science as an out-door instructive
amusement, and be limited to no age.

" Mr. Wilson talks of the difficulty of a
bored and weary schoolmaster teaching
science informally. Passing by the fact
that, if he be bored and weary, it is largely
due to his own want of interest in teaching,
or in engaging that of his pupils, I would
maintain just the opposite opinion that,
assuming a teacher to be such, informal
teaching in natural history has a wonderfully
invigorating effect, and reawakens the at
tention which may have become dull by mo
notony. Thus I have often found, during a
lesson in Littin, e. g., Virgil s Georgics,
passages to be. constantly occurring when
1 collateral science can be invoked. And,
what is a proof of its value is, that it be
comes suggestive to the pupils themselves,
so that I have been obliged to check the su
perabundance of questions lest a Latin las-
son should resolve itself into one on natural
history.

" Beyond such informal teaching as this
I would never encourage it as a principle for
teachers solely to act upon with young
children, though, of course, there need be
no restrictions in giving it them. But if sci
ence is to be taught at all and all such in
formal methods are not really teaching let
it be thorough as far as it goes, lest it should
lapse into a slipshod informality. It is the
charm of the schedule-system of botany
that it demands close and accurate observa
tion in the dissections, and the writing com
pels accuracy in the result, as well as im
presses the facts firmly upon the memory."

CRIMINAL JUSTICE IN 1876.

ONE of the objects of this Govern
ment, avowed by its founders in the
preamble to the Constitution, is to es
tablish justice. The implication here
is that there are such things as human
rights which require to be protected,
and that it is the office of government
to enforce this protection. The first
utterance to the world of the American
people, in detaching themselves from
the parent-country and proclaiming
independence, was an affirmation of
"inalienable rights," to secure which
"governments are instituted among
men." We may infer from this that it
is the first, the supreme, and the ac
knowledged duty of the governing

power in society to guarantee the
rights of citizens, and to see to the
trict enforcement of justice. The pre
sumption is that, in the free interactions
of citizens in the social state, wrongs
will occur, rights will be violated, and
injustice be done. The innocent will
be circumvented by the crafty, the
weak will be oppressed by the strong,
the unscrupulous will combine to plun
der the helpless, and, to prevent all
this, Legislatures enact laws, courts are
established, judges, sheriffs, and con
stables appointed to carry them out
and secure the requirements of justice.
This is the boasted theory of our civil
institutions, but, after a hundred years
of experience and improvement and
progress, it is painful to note the enor
mous gap that still exists between theory
and practice. That government should
fail to secure its great ends in a perfect
manner is what might be expected from
the imperfection of all human institu
tions. Though devoted assiduously to
this great object, such are its difficul
ties, and such the ingenuity of the prac
tised perpetrators of wrong, that we
should be entitled to expect from gov
ernment only a very partial accom
plishment of its purpose. Another and
a very powerful cause of the inefficient
execution of justice in society is, that
government perpetually forgets its su
preme function, in the pursuit of other
ends. It attempts to do so many things
that it does nothing well, and sacrifices
the very object for which it was insti
tuted, in the attempt to accomplish
others which it had no business to un
dertake. Instead of confining itself vig
orously to establishing justice in all the
relations of society, and then allowing
the widest liberty of individual action
and enterprise, it meddles with every
thing and everybody, interfering, check
ing, and restraining, where it should let
things alone, and undertaking to play
the part of Providence in controlling
the whole course of human interests.
Justice is thus not only neglected, but
injustice is wrought in all directions,

EDITOR S TABLE.

499

so that government at last becomes the
instrument and partner of the great
agencies of oppression and wrong-doing
in society. Nor is this the worst : in
stead of concentrating its attention upon
the transcendent duty of working out
the great ends of justice, and laboring
to improve and perfect the methods
and appliances for attaining this object,
it stands convicted as the open and
shameless perpetrator of wrong, viola
tor of the most sacred rights of citizens
and the defiant executor of palpable and
rank injustice. The prosecutor of crimi
nals, it becomes itself the criminal, and
cuts off its victim from all possibility
of redress.

An illustration of this has just oc
curred, which is worth pondering over
in this year consecrated to political
vainglory. The newspapers inform us
that " in November, 1874, Charles and
Mary Fisher were sentenced in the
county of New York, the former to
seven and the latter to five years im
prisonment in Sing Sing, for being ac
cessory to an outrage upon a girl. The
governor has pardoned both, upon the
representation of the prosecuting officer
that they were innocent of the crime."
Government has here perpetrated a
gross injustice upon two innocent per
sons deprived them of their liberty,
extorted labor from them, and robbed
them of the results of it, subjected them
to a cruel degradation, and, when con
victed of its own blundering, it lets its
victims go without lifting a finger tow
ard repairing the wrongs it has in
flicted; Charles and Mary Fisher are
witbout redress. If their rights had
been similarly violated by other indi
viduals, government would have recog
nized their claims to large compensa
tion. But when its own court and its
own officers are the self-convicted of
fenders, those who have suffered may
ask reparation in vain. If a citizen is
wrongfully deprived of his property by
government, he may prosecute and re
cover it to the uttermost farthing ; but,
if wrongfully imprisoned, stripped of

his wages and disgraced by the very
authority that was constituted to mete
out equal justice to all, its victims are
helpless. If an American citizen were
unjustly imprisoned abroad, the gov
ernment would have redress from the
offending nation, though at the cost of
war. But when the same thing occurs
under its own jurisdiction and by its
own fault, all reparation is denied. It
may be said that such things cannot
occur often; then they are the more
easily rectified, and the excuse for with
holding justice is only an aggravation.
But it is probable that they occur far
more often than the public is aware of.
For what have we to hope, in the strict
administration of justice, from an au
thority that can itself outrage justice in
so glaring a way? What are we to
expect from an authority that refuses
to hold itself accountable for the wrongs
it does. If it be said that the govern
ment must assume the infallibility of its
ministration of justice, then why liber
ate Charles and Mary Fisher ? And, if
the machinery of justice can work so
ill as utterly to defeat itself, the proof
of which we have in this flagrant case,
what confidence have we in the pro
portions and measures of penalties that
are meted out to real criminals ? With
such obtuseness and indifference to
right and wrong as are evinced in this
scandalous case, there is surely little
confidence to be reposed in the general
equities of criminal adjudication. There
can be little doubt that the coarsest
and most barbarous part of our admin
istration of law relates to the treatment
of the criminal classes.

PROF. HUXLEY S LECTURES.

PEOF. HUXLEY has decided that,
from the nature of his engagements,
he must give up all expectation of
visiting the United States during the
winter, and that therefore it would be
impossible for him to devote a season
to lecturing here. But he is coining
over in August to spend a brief vaca-

5 oo

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tion of a few weeks in this country,
and, although strongly desirous of for
getting all lecturing, and being left
quietly to himself while here, he has,
nevertheless, consented to give three
lectures during the last week of his
stay. He will speak in New York on
the 18th, 20th, and 22d of September,
the subject being " The Direct Evidence
of Evolution." This will give an op
portunity, for those persons throughout
the country who are anxious to hear
Prof. Huxley, to connect this pleas
ure with their September visit to the
Centennial Exhibition. It is to be re
membered that these are the only lect
ures that Prof. Huxley will give in
this country, and they will probably
be fortunate who obtain the tickets.
Detailed arrangements are not yet
made, but parties wishing to secure
seats can do so by applying to the edi
tor of THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,
who will register applications in the
order in which they are received, the
first applicants for tickets having the
first choice of places.

LITERARY NOTICES.

PREHISTORIC MAN: Researches into the Ori
gin of Civilization in the Old and the
New World. By DANIEL WILSON, LL. D.,
F. R. S. E. Third edition, revised and
enlarged, with Illustrations. In Two
Volumes. London : Macmillan & Co.,
1876. Price, $12.

THE first edition of this important work
was issued in 1862, at a period when the
public mind was startled by the rapid prog
ress made in archaeological discovery, and
by the evidence it afforded of the great an
tiquity of man upon the globe. Vast col
lections of implements and ornaments had
been made by the museums of Northern Eu
rope, and by private collectors, from caves,
mounds, lake-borders, and drift-gravels, but
their value as a record of the prehistoric
races was a subject of animated discussion.
It was not admitted, excepting by those
familiar with the subject, that any of the
implements which had been brought to
light " implied a longer period for man than
that assigned by the Mosaic record."

It was vigorously denied that flint weap
ons found in the ancient drift-gravels were
works of art. M. Boucher do Perthes pub
lished, in 1847, an account of many found
in the drift-gravels in Northern France, and
for many years " was looked upon as an en
thusiast, almost as a madman." At such a
period the appearance of Dr. Wilson s elab
orate work, and of others like it, did ex
cellent service, in presenting the facts and
history of archaeological science, and the
conclusions it suggests.

In common with those who had made
the science a subject of unprejudiced study,
he asserted the great antiquity of man.
"The pre-Celtic architects of the British
long barrows, and the allophyliae of the Eu
ropean stone age," he said, " are but men
of yesterday, in comparison with the Flint
Folk of the Drift. . . . They were a race of
hunters and fishers .... contemporary
with the Siberian mammoth and extinct ele
phants the woolly rhinoceros the musk-
ox, and reindeer of France."

The present volumes contain an account
of the principal discoveries made since the
first edition appeared, and treat in interest
ing detail of the condition of primitive man
on this continent the aspects of culture
among the mound-builders, and the miners
of the Northern lakes. The civilizations of
Mexico and Peru, and the shadowy ones
which preceded them, are vividly presented.

Here, as everywhere else with primitive
man, the author finds proof that " art is a
child of necessity." Probably men learned
to sharpen stones for their clubs, convert
ing them into spears when the club was
found inadequate to the necessities of their
condition.

Man s earliest arts were therefore of the
most practical kind, not in any sense or
namental. Indeed, ornamentation arose, in
the opinion of the author, merely by im
proving the accidents of manufacture.

The era of the Flint Folk, he observes,
may antedate the historic epoch by hun
dreds of thousands of years, as some archae
ologists insist ; " still man is found to have
been the same reasoning, tentative, and
inventive mechanician that he now is."
Nor does the author find any evidence of
the anthropoid link between man and the
brute. It is obvious, however, that much
depends on what constitutes evidence of

LITERARY NOTICES.

501

that link, and scientists differ on that
point.

Only that portion of the early prehis
toric period is known to us of which the
caves and the drift have furnished records ;
these, however, suggest an antecedent pe
riod, in which man may not have attained
the weapon-making stage. His primeval
habitat and true birthplace, observes the
author, may have been in the more favored
regions of the earth where Nature spontane
ously provided for his requirements.

That a work so voluminous as this should
pass to a third edition is strong evidence of
its merit, and of the deep interest felt in the
subject of which it treats. The value of the
work is enhanced by the number of its illus
trations, there being 132 in the 800 pages
of the volumes. It is the matured and in
telligent expression of one of the early stu
dents of archaeology, and will continue to
command the attention of the specialist and
of the general reader.

THE WAGES QUESTION : A TREATISE ON
WAGES AND THE WAGES-CLASS. By
FRANCIS A. WALKER, M. A., Ph. D. New
York: Henry Holt & Co. Pp. 428.
Price, $3.50.

THE question of wages is strictly eco
nomical in its nature, and must be discussed
by the political economist without reference
to ethical or social considerations. Most
writers on the subject of wages have, how
ever, given to the term " economical " too re
stricted a meaning, thus excluding the action
of causes which, though primarily ethical or
social, are nevertheless secondarily potent in
the field of industry, as affecting either the
production or the distribution of wealth.
To such causes Prof. Walker assigns due
weight, and herein consists one of the dis
tinctive features of his work. " Sympathy
for labor" is a phrase which, on first view,
would seem to have no place in a scientific
discussion of the wages question from the
political economist s point of view. Yet, as
is shown by the author, if sympathy for la
bor serves in any degree to make competi
tion on the side of the laboring class more
active and persistent ; if it takes anything
from the activity and persistency with which
the employing class use the means in their
power to beat down wages, or lengthen the
hours of work, it becomes, in just so far as

it has such an effect, a strictly economical
cause.

Three doctrines, which are more or less
current in political economy, the author ve
hemently controverts, viz. : 1. That there is
a wage-fund irrespective of the numbers and
industrial quality of the laboring population,
constituting the sole source from which
wages can at any time by drawn. Wages,
he shows, are paid out of current produc
tion, and not out of capital, as the wage-
fund theory assumes. 2. That competition
is so far perfect that the laborer, as produc
er, always realizes the highest wages which
the employer can afford to pay; or else, as
consumer, is recompensed in the lower price
of commodities for any injury he may chance
to suffer as producer. 3. That, in the or
ganization of modern industrial society, the
laborer and the capitalist are together suffi
cient unto production, the actual employer
of labor being regarded as the capitalist, or
else as the mere stipendiary agent and creat
ure of the capitalist, receiving a remunera
tion which can properly be treated like the
wages of ordinary labor.

in opposition to the generally-accepted
view that, if the wage-laborer does not seek
his interest, his interest will seek him, Prof.
Walker holds that, if the wage-laborer does
not pursue his interest, he loses his interest.
" In a state of imperfect competition," says
the author

" First, wages may be reduced without any
enhancement of profits, the difference being,
not gain to the employer, but loss to mankind
through the industrial degradation of the labor
er." This point is established by the case of
Spitalfields, where a large population was ruined
morally and socially by a great change in the
conditions of the silk manufacture. " Secondly,"
continues our author, "for so much of the sums
taken from the laboring class by reduction of
wages as the employers or capitalists may at the
time secure in excessive profits or excessive in
terest, there exists no adequate security, under
the operation of strictly economical forces, that
it will be fully returned to the wages-class in a
quickened demand for their labor, inasmuch as
luxuriousness and indolence will inevitably en
ter, among the majority of employers, to waste
in self-indulgence a portion of the profits so ac
quired, or to take something from the activity
and the carefulness with which future production
will be pursued. Thirdly, in respect to such in
dustrial injuries as have just been described,
economical forces by themselves tend to perpetu
ate and continually to deepen the injury, putting
the laborer at a constantly-increasing disadvan
tage in the exchange of his sen-ices."

5 02

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The doctrine of laissez faire is simply
a rule of conduct applicable in certain con
ditions, not a principle of universal applica
tion. Prof. Walker favors state interfer
ence to the extent of 1, insisting on the
thorough primary education of the whole
population ; 2, advocating a strict system
of sanitary administration ; 3, insisting on
the necessity of precautions for the integrity
of banks of savings for the encouragement
of the instincts of frugality, sobriety, and in
dustry. " If the state," says he, " will see to
it that the whole body of the people can read
and write and cipher ; that the common air
and common water which no individual
vigilance can protect, yet on which depend,
in a degree which few even of intelligent per
sons comprehend, the public health and the
laboring power of a populations are kept
pure ; and that the first feeble efforts of the
poor at bettering their condition are guard
ed against official frauds and speculative
risks, it may take its hands off at a hun
dred other points, and trust its citizens, in
the main, to do and care for themselves. . . .
It must ever be borne in mind, in such dis
cussions, that those things are economically
justified which can reasonably be shown to
contribute, on the whole, and in the long-run,
to a larger production, or, production re
maining the same, to a more equitable dis
tribution of wealth."

ANNUAL RECORD OF SCIENCE AND INDUSTRY
FOR 1875. By SPENCER F. BAIRD. Pp.
946. New York : Harper & Brothers.

THIS fifth volume of Prof. Baird s " An
nual Record of Science and Industry" is
not only the most voluminous, but also the
most complete of the series. The first part
of the work, comprising a brief narration
of scientific and industrial progress during
the year 1875, is specially valuable. Each
principal branch of science and industrial
art is here considered separately, and the
reader is enabled readily to note the amount
of progress made in each during the past
year, and to observe the directions in which
the thoughts of practical and scientific men
are tending. Such annual summaries will,
iu future times, be of invaluable service to
the historian. This portion of the work
occupies nearly 300 pages. The second
part consists of paragraphs communicating

in brief the results of special scientific in
vestigations. These paragraphs are dis
tributed under the heads of " Mathematics
and Astronomy," " Terrestrial Physics and
Meteorology," " General Physics, Chemistry,
and Metallurgy," " Mineralogy and Geol
ogy," "Geography," "General Natural His
tory and Zoology," " Botany and Horticult
ure," "Agriculture and Rural Economy,"
" Pisciculture and Fisheries," " Domestic
and Household Economy," " Mechanics and
Engineering," " Technology," " Materia
Medica," "Therapeutics and Hygiene,"
" Miscellaneous." The work is provided
with a good index.

MANUAL OF THE APIARY, pp. 59. Also, IN
JURIOUS INSECTS OF MICHIGAN, pp. 48.
By Prof. A. J. COOK, of the Michigan
State Agricultural College.

IN the first of these two pamphlets Prof.
Cook aims to supply a want which has long
been felt, that of a hand-book on bee-cult
ure, which shall be at once simple in style,
full in its discussions, low-priced, and up
with the times. In all these respects he
has undoubtedly attained a very fair meas
ure of success. The injurious insects treat
ed of in the second pamphlet are, the po
tato-beetle, May-beetle, pea-weevil, squash-
bug, sundry enemies of the cabbage-plant,
plum-curculio, grape-phylloxera, clothes-
moth, etc.

STANDARD FACTS AND FIGURES. Compiled
by A. G. SULLIVAN. New York : Morton
& Dumont. Pp. 109.

THIS little manual contains a large
amount of commercial and financial infor
mation of special importance to business
men, and to those who desire to purchase
Government, State, railway, and mining
stocks. The volume also contains tables of
interest, exchange, prices of gold, etc. The
value of the work is much enhanced by a
very complete index.

PROCEEDINGS OF THE POUGHKEEPSIE SOCIETY
OF NATURAL SCIENCE. Vol. I., fasci
cule I. Pp 41.

THIS installment of the proceedings of
the Poughkeepsie Society of Natural Sci
ence consists of only one paper, by Charles
B. Warring, entitled "Studies upon the

LITERARY NOTICES.

503

Inclination of the Earth s Axis." The au
thor considers the following questions :
How could a belt of nebulous matter acted
on by the laws of motion and gravitation
become a spheroid ? How did the axis of
the spheroid, normally perpendicular, be
come inclined ? What was the amount of
this inclination up to the moment of the
earth s existence separate from the moon ?
When did the increase to the present ob
liquity occur ? Finally, what was the cause
of that increase ?

MAN: PALAEOLITHIC, NEOLITHIC, AND SEV
ERAL OTHER RACES, NOT INCONSISTENT

WITH SCRIPTURE. By NEMO. Dublin:
Hodges, Foster & Co. Pp. 137.

THE first appearance of man upon the
earth took place, according to this author,
in the Pliocene, or perhaps earlier. Before
the Adam of the book of Genesis there were
several creations of man, and of these cre
ations ten races besides that of Adam sur
vive to this day. Thus, instead of being
the first, the scriptural Adam was the last
created man. After the " six days " of
creation the seventh day commenced, and
of that day nearly 6,000 years have run.
Judging from analogy, many thousands of
years have yet to elapse before the " sev
enth day " is ended.

ON SUPPOSED CHANGES IN THE NEBULA M 17
= h. 2008 = G. C. 4403. By E. S. HOL-

DEN.

THIS paper, reprinted from the American
Journal of Science and Art, goes over the
same ground as the article by the same
author, " The Horseshoe Nebula in Sagitta
rius," in Vol. VIII. of this MONTHLY. In the
latter paper Prof. Holden addresses a pop
ular audience, and he accordingly eschews
mathematics; but in the former he ad
dresses astronomers, and of course writes
in technical language.

THE PUBLIC-SCHOOL QUESTION : Two LECT
URES. Boston : Free Religious Associ
ation.

THE school question is here presented
from two opposite points of view : that of
" an American Catholic citizen," by BISHOP
McQuAiD, of Rochester, N. Y. ; and that of
" a liberal American citizen," by FRANCIS E.
ABBOTT, editor of the Index.

WHEELER S SURVEY OF THE TERRITORIES.
Reports of G. K. GILBERT, pp. 270 ;
EDWIN E. HOWELL, pp. 70 ; and A. R.
MARVINE, pp. 35. Washington, 1876.

THESE reports have been printed by the
authors for private circulation. They are
all extracted from vol. iii. of Wheeler s
United States Engineer Reports of Explo
rations and Surveys west of the One Hun
dredth Meridian. The authors, in this pri
vate edition of their reports, correct various
typographical errors, and restore some pas
sages which, though occurring in the original
manuscripts, do not appear in the documents
as officially published. In some instances
statements made in the reports are corrected
in accordance with the results of more re
cent investigation.

MEMOIRS OF THE PEABODY ACADEMY OP SCI
ENCE, No. 4. Salem : Published by the
Academy. Pp. 94, with Plates.

IN this elegant quarto volume the Pea-
body Academy presents to the public the
late Prof. Jeffries Wyman s memoir upon
the fresh-water shell-mounds of the St.
John s River, Florida. Prof. Wyman made
his first examination of these shell-mounds
in 1860, when collections were made at
Lake Harney, Black Hammock, and Enter
prise. In 1867 he revisited these places,
and soon afterward published a short ac
count of them, of which the present me
moir is in some respects a reprint. But
later he had opportunities for further ex
ploration, the results of which are here
given. The collections made by Prof. Wy
man are preserved in the Peabody Museum
of American Archaeology and Ethnology at
Harvard College.

BULLETIN OF THE UNITED STATES GEOLOGICAL
AND GEOGRAPHICAL SURVEY OF THE TER
RITORIES. Vol. II., No. 1, pp. 87; No.
2, pp. 100.

THE first of these two numbers of the
Bulletin of Hayden s Survey is specially in
teresting. It contains seven papers, nearly
all of them illustrated, on archaeological
subjects connected with Colorado, Arizona,
Utah, and other Western Territories. In
number two are two essays, viz., " Studies
of the American Falconidae," and "Orni
thology of Guadeloupe Island." Both of
these papers are by Mr. Robert Ridgeway.

54

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE NATURAL HISTORY OF
KERGUELEN ISLAND. By J. H. KIDDER,
M. D. II., pp. 122. Washington: Gov
ernment Prin ting-Office.

IN this bulletin are embodied the results
of an examination of the eggs brought from
Kerguelen Island by the United States Tran-
sit-of- Venus Expedition, the identification
of the botanical specimens, and determina
tions of the small but interesting zoological
collections. The latter contain a large num
ber of new genera and species, especially in
mollusks, insects, crustaceans, and echino-
dernis.

OCCURRENCE OP EOZOON CANADENSE AT COTE
ST.-PIERRE. By J. W. DAWSON, LL. D.
Pp. 10, with Plate.

THE controversy as to the true nature of
JEozoon Canadense whether it is of organic
origin, or whether it is simply and pure
ly a mineral formation still continues. A
short time ago we made mention of a paper
by Otto Hahn, on the negative side of this
question. In the paper before us Dr. Daw-
son presents with considerable force the ar
guments in favor of the organic origin of
this curious fossil.

BULLETIN OF THE UNITED STATES NATIONAL
MUSEUM, No. 6, pp. 82. Washington :
Government Printing-Office.
IN 1872, while on a visit to the Bermu
das, Dr. G. Brown Goode, assistant curator
of the United States Museum, studied the
fishes of those islands. The present num
ber of the Bulletin contains the results of
Df. Goode s studies. His " Catalogue of
the Fishes of the Bermudas" names and de
scribes seventy-five species of fishes belong
ing to Bermudan waters most of them ob
served by the author himself. Up to the
time of his visit, only seven species of fishes
had been recorded from that locality.

TRANSACTIONS OF THE KANSAS ACADEMY OF
SCIENCE. Vol. IV. Pp. 63. Topeka:
Printed by G. W. Martin.

CONTAINS twelve papers bearing the fol
lowing titles: "Ozone in Kansas Atmos
phere," " The Nebraska Hot Bluff," " Kan-
sas Chalk," " Kansas Soils," " Kansas Salt,"
" Calamity," " Kansas Mammalia," " Habits
of Certain Larvae," "The Cottonwood-leaf
Beetle," "Rocky Mountain Locust," "Sage
Sphinx," " Lepidoptera of Eastern Kansas."

THE HISTORICAL JESUS OF NAZARETH. By

M. SCHLESINOER, I ll. I). Pp. 98. New

York : Somerby.

DR. SCHLESINGER, in the first place, ana
lyzes the Messianic idea as it existed in the
minds of the prophets and in the traditions
of the people of Israel. He then examines
the New Testament writings, in order to
show what manner of man Jesus really was,
and what religious and moral doctrines he
held. These, according to the author, were
purely Jewish " Jesus was nothing but a
Jew." , The Christian system really origi
nated with the apostle Paul, who boldly
cut the new religion loose from its parent
trunk, Judaism.

BULLETIN OF THE BUSSY INSTITUTION. Part
V., pp. 97, with Plates. Cambridge :
John Wilson & Son.

OF the seven papers contained in this
volume three are on chemical subjects, viz.,
" The Composition of Date-stones," " Analy
sis of Potassic Fertilizers," " Occurrence of
Ammonia in Anthracite." The author of
these papers is Prof. F. H. Storer, dean of
the institution. The other four papers are
on botanical subjects, viz. : " A Disease of
Olive and Orange Trees," " The American
Grape-vine Mildew," "Fungi found in the
Vicinity of Boston," and " The Black Knot."
These papers are by Prof. W. G. Farlow.

JANSEN, McCLUBG & Co. announce the
publication of a " Manual of the Verte
brates of the Northern United States," by
David S. Jordan. The work is designed to
reduce the labor of classifying and ascer
taining the names of specimens, and to fill
in the study of zoology the place that Gray s
" Manual of Botany " has long filled in the
study of plants. 1 vol., 12mo, pp. 342.
Price $2.

UNDER the title " Condensed Classics,"
Henry Holt & Co. will soon commence the
publication, in condensed form, of a series
of standard works of English fiction, the
purpose being to save the time of the read
er by eliminating those portions of the text
that can be spared without impairing the
continuity of the story. The work of con
densation is in the competent hands of Mr.
Rossiter Johnson. The initial work of the
series will be " Ivanhoe," by Sir Walter

LITERARY NOTICES.

55

Scott. This will be speedily followed by
" Our Mutual Friend," by Charles Dickens,
which will be succeeded by " The Last
Days of Pompeii," by Bulwer.

IN the prospectus of the Quarterly Bul
letin of the Nuttatt Ornithological Club, it is
stated that " papers received from resident
and corresponding members of the club, to
gether with such matter pertaining to birds
as may be gathered from other sources,
will make up the contents. It is proposed
to issue 16 pages quarterly. Starting, how
ever, with 28, we hope to receive sufficient
aid to warrant the continuation of a like
number, and to make the work at least self-
supporting." $1 per year. Published by
H. B. Bailey, 13 Exchange Place, Boston.

THE American Catholic Quarterly Re
view takes the place of the defunct Quar
terly Review edited by the late Dr. Orestes
A. Brownson. The new periodical, how
ever, will occupy a wider field than its
predecessor, embracing within its scope not
only theological, philosophical, and politi
cal, but also historical, scientific, and liter
ary discussions. It has a strong editorial
staff, and among its contributors are the
foremost Catholic litterateurs and scholars
of the United States and England. $5 per
year. Philadelphia : Hardy & Mahony, 505
Chestnut Street.

PUBLICATIONS EECEIVED.
The Logic of Chance. By John Venn,
M. A. Pp. 488. New York: Macmillan.
Price, $3.75.

Village Communities. By Sir Henry S.
Maine. Pp. 425. New York : Holt & Co.
Price, $3.50.

The Andes and the Amazon. By James
Orton, A. M. Pp. 645. New York:
Harpers. Price, $3.00.

Comparative Zoology. By James Orton,
A. M. Pp. 396. New York: Harpers.
Price, $3.00.

Elements of Physical Manipulation. By
E. C. Pickering. Part II. Pp. 326. New
York : Hurd & Houghton. Price, $4.00.

Ninth Annual Keport of the Peabody
Museum of American Archaeology. Pp. 54.

Recent Advances in Physical Science.
By P. G. Tait, M. A. Pp. 349. New York :
Macmillan. Price, $2.50.

The Fatigue of Metals. By L. Span-
genburg. Pp. 90. New York: Van Nos-
trand. Price, 50 cents.

Eighth Annual Report on the Insects of
Missouri. By C. V. Riley. Pp. 186.
Jefferson City : Regan & Carter print.

Seventh Annual Report of the Massa
chusetts Board of Health. . Pp. 574. Bos
ton : Wright & Potter, print.

Annual Report of the Louisiana Board
of Health. Pp. 261. New Orleans Repub
lican print.

Annual Report of the St. Louis School
Board. Pp. 407. St. Louis Globe-Demo
crat print.

Report on the Ventilation of the United
States Hall of Representatives. By Robert
Briggs, C. E. Pp. 45. Philadelphia : H.
B. Ashmead print.

Tenth Annual Report of the Trustees of
the Connecticut Hospital for the Insane.
Pp. 56. Middletown, Connecticut: Pelton
& King print.

Centennial Newspaper Exhibition.
Compiled by G. P. Rowell & Co. New York.
Pp. 295.

Papers read before the H H Scientific
Society of the Rensselaer Institute. Troy,
New York. Pp. 44.

Normal Standard of Woman for Propa
gation. By N. Allen, M. D. Pp. 39. New
York : W. Wood & Co.

The Wire-Ligature. By W. A. Byrd,
M. D. Pp. 20. New York : Appletons.

Biblia Sacra Nova. Pp. 30. New
York News Company. Price, 25 cents.

Catalogue of Isaac Lea s Published
Works. Pp. 22. Philadelphia : Collins print.

Further Notes on " Inclusions " in Gems.
By J. Lea, LL. D. Pp. 12. Philadelphia.:
Collins print.

Lateral Pressure of Rocks. By W. H.
Niles. Pp.15. Boston: Kingman print.

Notes on the North American Ganoids.
By B. G. Wilder. Pp. 44. Salem Press.
Price, 50 cents.

506

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Distribution of the Geneva Award. By
Hon. Elijah Ward Pp. 10. Washington,
1876.

Terre Haute Public Schools. Pp. 92.
Terre Haute, Ind. : Globe Printing-Office.

Report on Dermatology. By L. P. Yan-
dell, Jr., M. D. Pp. 7. Indianapolis Jour
nal print.

The Missouri Dental Journal. Monthly.
Pp. 16.

The Glacial Epoch and the Distribution
of Insects in North America. Pp. 5. Are
Potato-Bugs poisonous ? Pp. 3. By A. R.
Grote. From Proceedings of American As
sociation for the Advancement of Science.

Nothing. By W. H. Boughton. Pp. 8.
Brooklyn : E. S. Dodge print.

Chemistry of Three Dimensions. By F.
W. Clarke. Pp. 9. From Proceedings
of American Association for the Advance
ment of Science.

Experimental Proof of the Law of In
verse Squares for Sound. By W. W.
Jacques. Pp. 8.

MISCELLANY.

The Academy of Natural Sciences of Phil
adelphia. The Academy of Natural Sciences
of Philadelphia having, at the beginning of
the present year, taken possession of its
commodious new building, Prof. E. D. Cope
avails himself of the occasion to suggest
in the Penn Monthly some needed changes
and improvements in its organization.
The objects of the Academy, as stated by
its founder, are, the promotion of origi
nal investigation, the imparting of instruc
tion, and the diffusion of knowledge. The
Academy possesses a moderate fund for
promoting the last-named object, and pub
lishes its "Transactions" regularly. But
the other two objects do not receive the
same attention. Original research is not
materially encouraged by the Academy, and
in one instance funds, supposed to be de
voted to research, were hoarded and after
ward turned over to the building-fund. Less
than five hundred dollars per annum is de
voted to "instruction." The chief fault
found by Prof. Cope in the organization of

the Academy is that, while it secures good
financial management, it minimizes the sci
entific features of the body. " Its officers
are the usual president, vice-president, sec
retary, etc., constituting a management as
appropriate to an historical society, library
company, or, I might add, church vestry, as
to an academy of natural sciences. It has
no position designed for its distinctive and
essential feature, its scientific experts."

Prof. Cope s remedy is simply to adopt
the organization which is possessed by all
similar institutions the world over. "Let
it create as many positions as there is rea
sonable probability of receiving endowments
in future years, and attach to them privi
leges which will render them desirable to
incumbents, and duties such as are neces
sary to the Academy."

\ryville Thomson on Oceanic Circulation.

Prof. Wyville Thomson, in a report to
the hydrographer to the British Admiralty,
discusses the problem of oceanic circula
tion, and gives reasons for believing that
the bottom water of the two great oceans
is an extremely slow indraught from the
Southern Sea. This indraught he refers to
the simplest and most obvious of all causes,
viz., the excess of evaporation over precipi
tation in the northern portion of the land
hemisphere, and the excess of precipitation
over evaporation in the middle and south
ern part of the water hemisphere. In con
cluding the report, Prof. Thomson further
says, " I need scarcely add that I have
never seen, whether in the Atlantic, the
Southern Sea, or the Pacific, the slightest
ground for supposing that such a thing ex
ists as a general vertical circulation of the
water of the ocean depending upon differ
ences of specific gravity."

The Discovery of Anaesthesia. Dr. H. P.

Stearns, of Hartford, at the close of an able
" Critique on the History of Modern Anaes
thesia," which appears in the Medical Rec
ord, sums up in the following terms the re
sults obtained by sundry prominent claim
ants of the honors of discovery : 1. In De
cember, 1844, Wells made the suggestion
and applied the test in his own person, by
inhaling a large dose of nitrous oxide, and
having a tooth extracted without pain. 2.

MISCELLANY.

507

In September, 1846, Morton, a former pu
pil of Wells s, aware of his discovery and
repeating his experiments, extracted a tooth
without pain, while the patient was under
the influence of sulphuric ether. 3. In 1847
Simpson first introduced the practice of
anaesthesia in midwifery, thereby making
known more widely its value. He also dis
covered the anaesthetic properties of chloro
form, and by his writings and teachings
very largely contributed to introducing the
practice of anaesthesia to the world. 4.
Others have since discovered the anaesthetic
properties of different vapors, which are
more or less used in practice.

Loss of Self-Control In Battle. In his

" History of the Civil War in America," the
Count de Paris gives some curious instances
of the loss of self-possession among soldiers
in the heat of battle. He states that, among
24,000 loaded muskets picked up at random
on the Gettysburg battle-field, one-fourth
only were properly loaded ; 12,000" con
tained each a double charge, and th other
fourth from three to ten charges. In some
there were six balls to a single charge of
powder ; others contained six cartridges,
one on top of the other, without having been
opened. A few had twenty-three complete
charges regularly inserted. Finally, in the
barrel of a single musket there were found,
confusedly jumbled together, twenty-two
balls and sixty-two buckshot, with a propor
tionate quantity of powder ! " But we should
not severly criticise the American soldier,"
adds the author, " for it appears that an ex
amination of the battle-fields of the Crimea
gave similar results."

Pennsylvania Coal-Snpply. The avail
able coal of the Alleghany coal-field is es
timated by Mr. Andrew Roy, in the Engi
neering and Mining Journal, at 743,424,-
000,000 tons, an amount nearly ten times
greater than the estimates made by Edward
Hull and Warrington Smith of the coal
resources of the British Isles. The same
writer states the aggregate thickness of
workable coal in the anthracite regions of
Pennsylvania as 200 feet in 2,175 feet of
coal-measures. In the bituminous regions
of Pennsylvania, near Pittsburg, he esti
mates 60 or 70 feet of workable coal to

2,000 feet of coal-measures. In West Vir
ginia, where the Kanawha River cuts the
coal-measures to their base, 78 feet thick
ness of coal in 16 seams is revealed; and
along the Ohio, from Bellaire to Pomeroy,
the proportion is 40 or 50 feet of coal in
1,200 to 1,400 of rock. The number of
workable seams and consequent thickness
of coal in every division of the coal-area
are in proportion to the thickness of the
carboniferous rocks. Beginning at the base
of the coal-measures, and reaching up to
the height of 400 feet, to the base of the
barren measures, there exist, in the bitu
minous regions, 3 feet of coal for every 50
feet of strata. The next 400 feet are gen
erally barren of workable coal ; but from
the Pittsburg seam, which is the lowest
bed of the upper series, to the outcrops or
top of the coal-strata, the same general
estimate of 3 feet of workable coal to every
50 feet of rock will hold good.

The People of Eastern New Goinea,

Signor d Albertis agrees with Moresby in
describing the inhabitants of Eastern New
Guinea as of materially different race from
the true Papuans, who are found in the far
west of the island. The people of Yule
Island, and of the coasts east and west of
it, resemble those of the Polynesian region
in many respects. The indigenous Papu
ans, physically and morally inferior to these
Polynesian invaders, have been driven from
the coast, where the land is comparatively
healthy and fertile, and have permitted the
intruders to establish themselves and mul
tiply. The inhabitants of the interior are
darker in color, the hair is more frizzed,
and there is a difference in the form of the
face, the prognathous appearance being
more common than on the coast. From
what D Albertis has seen of the interior, he
concludes that the land is very suitable for
colonization, being well watered, with abun
dance of grass, and having a good climate
without excessive heat. The natives are
described as "intelligent, industrious, and
persevering."

Body Temperature of the Drunkard.

Observations made by Dr. Reincke, of Ham
burg, on eighteen drunken men, leave no
doubt as to the great reduction of tempera-

5 o8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ture in such persons, when the external con
ditions favor the withdrawal of the bodily
heat. Alcohol produces a dilatation of the
peripheral vessels, whereby more blood en
ters the skin and contributes to raise its
temperature. If the body be well clothed
and protected from external influences likely
to abstract heat, the reduction of its warmth
is inconsiderable ; but if exposed to cold
and placed under circumstances favorable
to the abstraction of heat, there is a rapid
loss of warmth from the blood circulating
in the skin. The lowest temperature met
with by Reincke lower than in any re
corded instance in which the individual
survived was the case of a man thirty-four
years old, picked up in the street about
midnight in February, when the tempera
ture of the air was 30 Fahr. He was in a
state of complete alcoholic coma, respond
ing to no stimulant. At 8 A. M. his tem
perature, in recto, was only 75, but at 12
M. it reached nearly 82. At this period
reaction began to show itself, and he could
mutter a few words. . From this point the
heat of the body gradually increased and
had reached the normal point the following
morning.

Houses, for the Industrious Poor. The
problem of cheap and commodious housing
for the worthy poor continues to occupy
the attention of philanthropists. We have
already made mention in these columns of
the bequest made by the late George Pea-
body for the erection of improved tene
ment-houses for the industrious poor of Lon
don. The trustees of the Peabody fund
have recently completed twelve of these
buildings, capable of accommodating 1,000
persons. In each building there are twenty-
two tenements, consisting of one, two, or
three rooms, with a separate entrance for
each. The rooms are of good size, those of
the three-roomed tenements being as fol
lows : Kitchen, fifteen by twelve feet, a bed
room, sixteen by fourteen feet, second bed
room, sixteen by twelve feet, the rent being
6s. 9d per week. The rent of a two-roomed
tenement is 4s. 6d, and for one room 3s.
There are several cupboards and a meat-safe
inside, and a coal-bin in the passage outside.
On each flat is a laundry with every con
venience ; this is used by the tenants in

turn. There is also a bath. The rules to
be observed by the tenants are but few in
number, and intended merely to secure
cleanliness and good order. No one is al
lowed to occupy these buildings who earns
more than thirty shillings per week.

Present Condition of the Suez Canal.

M. de Lesseps, on his return to Paris, after
a five months visit to Suez, communicated
to the Academic des Sciences the details
of his observations upon the .present state
of the isthmian canal. Port Said he found
to be in no danger at all of being filled up
with sand. The dredging-machiue suffices
to keep the channel clear. Moreover, it
does not fill up so rapidly as has been sup
posed, for the work done last year still
remains, and two very large ships have
recently navigated the canal without diffi
culty one of them drawing over twenty
feet of water. In winter the current of
the canal sets in toward the Mediterranean,
owing to the excess of water in the Bitter
Lakes^ in summer the current is in the op
posite direction. Since the construction of
the canal there are frequent showers on the
Red Sea, whereas, previously, rain was un
known there a very extraordinary thing
indeed, if it can be shown to be a fact.
This rainfall, says M. de Lesseps, has start
ed vegetation even on the Asiatic shore of
the Red Sea, where the infiltration is only
of salt-water.

Prehistoric Relics at the Centennial Ex
position. Mr. Ernest Ingersoll, natural his
tory editor of Forest and Stream, has com
menced in that journal a series of letters on
the Philadelphia Exhibition. In his first let
ter he describes the collections of American
prehistoric relics exhibited by the Smithso
nian Institution and by various States, es
pecially Ohio. For the purposes of general
illustration, the Smithsonian collection he
pronounces the best ; but the State collec
tions possess greater interest for the ar
chaeologist, as embracing many unique ob
jects, only casts- of some of which are to be.
found in the Smithsonian display. In the
Ohio collection, the first object which at
tracts attention is an immense axe of green
stone, sixteen and a half inches long. The
arrow-heads and spear-points chiefly of

MISCELLANY.

^09

chalcedony are remarkably fine. A few
of these are made of obsidian, which must
have been brought from Mexico. Articles
of mica are there also, which must have
been imported from a distance. The orna
ments of the mound-builders are well rep
resented, and include a variety of forms, all
cut out of a blue Silurian slate-rock. Pipes
of both the modern Indians and of the
mound-builders are shown, the latter al
ways carved in the form of some animal.
One case contains a lot of awls, needles,
and arrow-points, of bone and bear s teeth,
upon which rude carvings are executed.
There are also several human skulls in good
condition. There are numerous photographs
and maps of the enormous structures erect
ed by the mound-builders throughout the
Ohio Valley and northward.

Winter Fanna of Mount Marcy. While
engaged last winter on the survey of the
Adirondack region, Mr. Verplanck Colvin
made some observations upon the winter
fauna of Mount Marcy, and has since read a
paper on that subject before the Albany
Institute. Among the most important of
the animals whose footprints were found in
the snow was the panther (Felis concolor).
Rabbit-tracks which accompanied the pan
ther s trail indicated that the " mountain
lion " had been in pursuit of small game.
Next in importance to the panther in the
list of species, the trails of which were ob
served, was the Canada lynx ; this animal,
too, had been rabbit-hunting. The foot
prints of the black cat (Mustela Canadcnsis)
were frequently met with, associated with
the tracks of rabbits and even of mice
The sable (Mustela martes) is abundant in
the forests on the sides of Mount Marcy.
Tracks of the ermine (Pitforius novebora-
censis) were recognized in one place, but
the animal does not seem to be common.
The rabbit, or, more properly, the white or
varying hare (Lepus americam-s), is so abun
dant as to bear the inroads of its many
foes without apparent diminution. The
common red squirrel (Sciurus hudxnniits)
was found at an altitude of about 4,000
feet ; it feeds here on the seeds of the black
spruce. On the slopes of the mountain,
at all elevations not exceeding 4,000 feet,
were seen the tracks of deer - mice, and

occasionally the minuter trail of a small
shrew. Of birds three varieties had left
their footprints in the snow the raven, the
ruffled grouse, and the snow-bird. During a
thaw in October a small moth was captured
on the summit of the mountain ; it has
been recognized as belonging to a species
abundant in Alaska. During the same thaw
a beetle was found upon the very summit
of the peak.

Eucalypti as Timber-Trees. There are
in Australia a number of species of gum-
trees, or Eucalypti, the best known being
the Eucalyptus globulus, or blue gum. As
timber-trees their properties differ widely.
The tewart, a variety of the white gum-
tree, is of straight growth and noble di
mensions. The wood is yellowish, hard,
heavy, and strong, with a grain so twisted
and curled that it is difficult to cleave or
work it. This wood is very durable. The
wood of the jarrah (Eucalyptus tnargi-
nata) is much used for telegraph-posts and
railroad-ties. It defies the white ant and
teredo, and is practically unaffected by time,
weather, or water. The kari (Eucalyptus
diversicolor] is a magnificent tree, but the
timber is subject to "star-shake." The
iron-bark (Eucalyptus resinifera} produces
timber that is very hard, heavy, and strong?**
It is very difficult to work. The wood of
the blue gum is of a pale straw-color, hard,
heavy, but only moderately strong. It is a
durable wood, but its value is much dis
counted by its tendency to split. The
stringy-bark (Eucalyptus gig anted) is a lofty
tree ; the wood is brown, hard, heavy, and
strong. It is used for all kinds of work.

Concrete Constrnction. One of the most
interesting features of last year s Interna
tional Exhibition, at London, was the show
of buildings of concrete in course of erec-,
tion. One exhibitor showed a building, the
material of which was concrete, faced with
tile and terra-cotta mouldings. In this case
the tiles are arranged in a supporting frame
in their proper position, and concrete is then
filled in behind. The cost is stated to be
about the same as the best brickwork. As
regards the strength of concrete construc
tions, Mr. W. C. Homorsham, C. E., states
tli at the staging necessary for carrying a

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

concrete floor, in the green or wet state, of
a room say twelve and a half by twenty-
five feet, may be struck in a week after the
completion of the floor, if the concrete be
only six inches in uniform thickness, and
gauged in such proportions that every cubic
yard when in situ contains four bushels of
Portland cement, and six bushels of clean,
sharp, siliceous sand. One month after the
concrete has set, the floor would be ca
pable of sustaining an equally-distributed
load of 112 pounds to the foot super
ficial, and, twelve months after, an equally-
distributed load of 450 pounds per foot su
perficial. If the thickness of the flooring
be increased to twelve inches, and the con
crete gauged as before, a room nineteen and
a half feet in width by any length may be
covered with the same results as to strength,
as those given above for the room twelve
and a half feet in width. A wall of con
crete i3 impervious to water, and fire-proof.

A Relic of the Monad-Builders. Through
the kindness of Prof. A. E. Dolbear, of Tufts
College, Massachusetts, I am enabled to pre
sent to the attention of archaeologists a brief
notice and figure of an unusually interesting
specimen of carving in stone, the work of the

mound-builders of Ohio. The history of the
specimen, as given me by Prof. Dolbear, is
briefly this : " It was ploughed up in a field
a few miles from Marysville, Union County,
Ohio."

The relic is a small pebble of bluish-
gray slate, highly polished, and ground to
a moderately sharp edge. The front or
carved side is oval and of a uniform sur

face ; the back is sloped from a central flat ?
oval space, about one-fourth ot an inch in its
long diameter. Had the specimen not the
carving of a face upon it, it could properly
be classed with that form of implement
known as the " celt," although these very
seldom have an edge extending along the
entire margin. Circular celts or " skinning-
knives," of about the same size, with a cut
ting-edge along the whole margin, have been
found by the writer, in New Jersey.

The remarkable feature of the relic
here described is the human face carved
upon one side. As a representation of a
woman s face, it is certainly artistically exe
cuted. As has been remarked of a mound-
builder s smoking-pipe, having a somewhat
similar carving, 1 " the muscles of the face
are faithfully rendered, and the forehead is
finely moulded. The eyes are prominent
and the chin open, and full and rounded."
The nose and mouth are distinctly cut, but
not as accurately finished as the other
features.

Although the labor expended upon tbe
stone to bring it to so well defined an edge,
about its margins, was so considerable, the
specimen can scarcely be considered an or
namented cutting-implement. Celts, such
as we have referred to, are
never marked by carvings,
even of plain lines, so far
as we have collected them
in New Jersey ; although
some other forms, as plum
mets (?) and pestles, were
occasionally carved. "\Vhat,
indeed, this relic really was,
when the aborigine who
carved it had it in posses
sion, it is useless to conjec
ture. Its value now con
sists in its being a well-
preserved specimen of the
work of a stone-age savage ;
and possibly a characteris
tic delineation of the features of a woman
of the race known as the mound-builders.
CHARLES C. ABBOTT, M. D.

The Loan Exhibition in London. The

exhibition of scientific instruments at Lon
don was opened with an address by Mr. W.

1 " Flint Chips," p. 433, American edition.

NOTES.

5 11

Spottiswoode, F. R. S., who, after calling
attention to the great number of antique
instruments present, dwelt upon the valua
ble services often rendered to science by ear
nest students possessed of very inadequate
means. " In reviewing," he said, " the series
of ancient, or, at least, now disused instru
ments, one thing can hardly fail to strike
the attention of those who are accustomed
to the use of the modern forms. It is this :
how much our predecessors managed to
achieve with the limited means at their
disposal. If we compare the magnificent
telescopes, the exquisite clock-work, the
multiplicity of optical appliances now to be
found in almost every private, and still
more in every public observatory, with
those of two centuries past ; or, again, if
we look at the instruments with which
Arago and JBrewster made their magnificent
discoveries in polarized light, in contrast to
those with which the adjoining room is
literally teeming, we may well pause to re
flect how much of their discoveries was due
to the men themselves, and how compara
tively little to the instruments at their com
mand.

" And yet we must not measure either
the men or their results by this standard
alone. The character of the problems which
Nature propounds varies greatly from time
to time. First we have some great striking
question, the very conception and statement
of which demand the highest powers of
the human mind. Next follow the first
outlines of the solution sketched by some
master-hand ; afterward the careful and
often tedious working out of the details
of the problem, the numerical evaluation
of the constants involved, and the reduc
tion of all the quantities to strict meas
urement. It is in this part of the busi
ness that the more elaborate instruments
are specially required. It is for bring
ing small differences to actual measure
ment that the complex refinements with
which we are here surrounded become of
the first importance. But happily this
complication is not of perennial growth.
In reviewing from time to time the various
aspects of a problem in connection with the
instrumental appliances designed for its
solution, the essential features come out by
degrees more strongly in relief. One by

one the unimportant parts are cast aside,
and the apparatus becomes reduced to its
essential elements."

NOTES.

THE Franklin Institute of the State of
Pennsylvania has opened a reception-room
at the northwest end of the Machinery
Hall, Centennial Exhibition grounds. The
following objects of great historical in
terest have been placed in the room : 1.
Franklin s electrical machine ; 2. Oliver
Evans s steam locomotive - engine, con
structed in 1804; 3. Oliver Evans s high-
pressure steam-engine, same date ; 4. Work
ing model of a steam-engine constructed
by M. W. Baldwin, presented by him to the
Franklin Institute, about the year 1832.
Files of the industrial journals may be found
here, and visitors will be cordially welcomed.

PRELIMINARY steps have been taken for
holding an international horticultural exhi
bition and botanical congress in London in
the year 1879.

A REPORT made to the Silk-Merchants
Union of Lyons states the silk-crop of Eu
rope in 1874 to have been, in round num-
beis, 9,050,000 pounds. The silk imported
into Europe amounted to 11,500,000 pounds,
most of it (8,000,000 pounds) coming from
China. The greater part (6,000,000 pounds)
of the domestic silk was produced in Italy.

A COURSE in Herbert Spencer s " Prin
ciples of Psychology " will be given at Har
vard University during the year 1876- 77,
under the instruction of Prof. James.

IN the Pacific Medical and Surgical Jour-
nal a case is recorded of the conveyance of
small-pox in a letter from Indiana to Cali
fornia. A man in the latter State received
last December a letter from a sister in In
diana, stating that four members of her fam
ily had small-pox. A few days after the re
ceipt of the letter, the man became ill, and
the disease developed into a well-marked
case of discrete variola.

IN the sugar-plantations of Xatal the
large python is employed to keep down
rats and mice.

AT a late meeting of the St. Louis Acad
emy of Science, Prof. C. V. Riley exhibited
cocoons and spinning worms of the com
mon mulberry silk-worm (Sericaria mori)
reared on Osage Orange. The worms were
a cross between the best French and Japan
ese races, and he had reared them for five
years on Osage Orange with no reduction in
quantity or quality of silk, and great in
crease of vigor and healthfulness.

5 12

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MACMILLAN will publish in the fall two
volumes by Prof. Wyville Thomson, on the
"Results of the Challenger Expedition."
This work will be illustrated by drawings,
made on the spot by Mr. Wild, the artist
of the expedition, of the many curious and
beautiful creatures now for the first time
brought to light.

A NEW grape-fungus, which first appears
on the leaves of the grape-vine, in the form
of a minute yellow spot, was described by
Dr. Engelmaun, at a recent meeting of the
St. Louis Academy of Science. It makes
its appearance just before and during the
flowering period, as far as known attacking
only the leaves, or rarely the petioles and
peduncles. It kills the leaves, and thus
cripples the plant, and attacks all varieties
indiscriminately.

A SET of wheels was lately taken from
beneath the baggage-car of the California
and Oregon express train at Sacramento,
which had traveled in daily use 91,800
miles, nor were they worn out even then,
but had become loose on the axle.

THE Challenger Expedition returned to
England May 23d, after an absence of three
years and five months. During that time
the vessel sailed 61,840 miles. The number
of soundings made was 370, of dredgings,
360. Some hundreds of specimens were
sent home during the voyage. The mor
tality was not above the mean, and, when
it is remembered that the average time at
sea was 220 days per year, it is surprising
that the health of those on board (259 in
number) was as good as it was.

DURING the thirty years, 1841- 70, the
death-rate of England and Wales was near
ly stationary, about twenty-two per thou
sand. It must not be supposed, however,
that in the mean time no progress was made
in sanitary science. The rapid develop
ment of manufactures led to the crowding
of people in towns, and this must have
tended to produce a higher death-rate.
The local statistics strikingly exhibit the
influence of this massing of people in man
ufacturing and mining centres. For in
stance, while Cambridgeshire shows a pro
gressive decline of death-rate, in the West
Hiding of Yorkshire, where the urban pop
ulation has been enormously increased, the
death-rate has been steadily rising.

A STREET-PAVEMENT of pig-iron is soon
to be tried in Paris. In constructing a
roadway of this kind, a bed of mortar is
first laid down, which is covered by a strong
layer of asphalt ; it is in this layer that the
iron cakes, which are about 1.6 inch thick,
are set. These cakes, it appears, preserve
the homogeneity of the bitumen and pre
vent its depression, and render the asphalt

less slippery for horses. This pavement will
cost more than the compressed asphalt, but
it is estimated that it will save 5U per cent,
of the repairing expenses, which are very
considerable. The end desired is to avoid,
by the adoption of this kiircl of pavement,
the depressions in roads over which a great
deal of traffic passes. To attain this, it does
not suffice to pour bitumen upon a well-
prepared ground lightly covered with a coat
of lime ; the resistance of the ground should
equal that of an old macadamized bank ;
and a very thick bed of mortar, which should
be very homogeneous, should be laid before
the asphalt.

A NEW process of gas-manufacture has
been patented by Malam, manager of the
Dumfries (Scotland) Gas-Works. The ad
vantage claimed by the inventor for the
new process is, that a large proportion of
the liquid hydrocarbons, which would other
wise go to form tar, are converted into gas,
and thus an increased production of gas is
insured to the amount of 3,000 or 4,000
feet per ton, while the quality is not de
teriorated.

IN announcing the sale of the Hoosac
Tunnel machinery, the Engineering and
Mining Journal remarks: "The contractors
completed, in the most satisfactory manner
and it is said at a considerable pecuniary
sacrifice, a most difficult work (the tunnel),
and one which is of considerable advantage
to the State (Massachusetts), and it is great
ly to be regretted that the government of a
great State should resort to those devices,
to avoid the fair and honest performance of
their engagements, which, when practised
by individuals, are characterized as tricky
and dishonorable. "

WATER which has been kept for some
time in the state of ebullition does not
make so good an infusion of tea as water
"just upon the boil." A reason for this is
suggested by a writer in the Chemical News,
who says that the escape of dissolved gases
might possibly account for the inferiority of
tea-infusion made with long-boiled water.
To test this, he passed for ten minutes
through boiling water a stream of carbonic-
acid gas, and then made an infusion of tea
with it. The result was decidedly better
than when water was employed that had
boiled for the same length of time without
the addition of the C0 2 .

THE depth of the Pacific Ocean between
Eawaii and Tahiti, as developed by the
soundings of the Challenger Expedition,
ranges from 2,000 to 3,000 fathoms, with
one exception of 1,525 fathoms. The bot
tom, except ne ir the islands, is mainly red
clay, with much oxide of manganese in small
concretions and many foraminifers. -

5 1 4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to place. The Chinese invariably substitute the soft for the hard
trill, 1 and this substitution is common among other nations. The
Polynesians put gutturals in the place of dentals, 9 and the missionaries
who are educating the youth of the Hawaiian Islands have had to
abandon sounds that the people are unable to pronounce. It is almost
as difficult rightly to hear as it is correctly to imitate articulations
foreign to one s own tongue : travelers hardly ever agree in their
representations of names that they have heard pronounced by natives.
Are differences of voice and of auditory perception the result to a
small extent of organization, but to a greater extent of early edu
cation ? One is tempted to believe that such is the case. But experi
ment and observation, hitherto very limited, have not yet thrown
upon this subject the light of scientific truth.

Words are formed by the combination of vowels and consonants ;
the voice gives utterance to them ; this is language which is at first
governed by convention, and then by grammar. Pronunciation re
sults from the emission of articulate sounds ; its range in pitch is
usually about one-half of an octave. Commonly the voice rises or
falls a little at the end of a phrase, producing accent, or marking
affirmation or interrogation. The adult man, as a rule, speaks in the
lower register, children and women in the upper register, but to this
there are many exceptions.

Though we all employ speech, yet we differ in ease and agreeable-
ness of utterance. The voice is weak or powerful, as determined by
the mode of action of the respiratory organs. The timbre is sharp,
harsh, sweet, or harmonious ; this is determined by the conformation
of the resonant cavities. Whatever quality of voice we happen to
have naturally, is to be preserved, though it may be improved by
constant attention to the ear, by steady observation, finally by train
ing. Speech does not flow from its source with the same ease in all
cases : here the mind is master, and mental qualities differ from one
another to a far greater extent than physical aptitudes. Some per
sons express themselves without difficulty or hesitation their thinking
faculty acts as a continuous force ; others seem to grasp a word or a
phrase here and there their thinking faculty is fluctuating, confused,
undecided. A certain feeling of constraint produces stuttering, stam
mering. It used to be supposed that stuttering is the result of grave
defects of the vocal organs, but such is not the case at all ; this infirm
ity has its seat in the mind, and it may be cured or mitigated by
systematic effort. It is shown by statistics that Provence, Languedoc,
and Guienne, contain a greater proportion of stammerers in their
population than any other portions of France. 8 This statement, when

1 I for r Eulope for Europe.

* gh for <f, k for t. This change of pronunciation is not infrequent in some country
districts of France.

3 "Statistique d6cennale du b6gaieraent en France," par Chervin ain6, Lyon, 1868.

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 515

first I saw it, was a surprise to me ; it has always been thought that no
one could possibly falter in his speech who was born near the Garonne. 1

In performing its great function of establishing all the social rela
tions between man and man, the voice readily calls forth sympathies
and antipathies ; its quality reveals better than words the true feel
ings of the heart. A voice that is clear, pure, limpid, conveys the
impression of frankness; one that is hesitating, drawling, betokens
dissimulation; a harsh, grating voice indicates an evil disposition;
while a voice that is sweet, harmonious, affects us as though it were
the breathing of a gentle soul. These impressions made by the voice
are usually correct, and rightly enough influence the relations of man
to man, still we must not trust them too implicitly. No doubt lan
guage may serve to disguise thought, but the vocal instrument itself
may also produce false impressions. Besides the effects of Nature,
we have the effects of art. An orator wishing to make himself heard,
or to produce a sensation, opens his mouth widely, and derives from
the resonant cavities all the aid that they can supply ; this is the
declamatory style, condensed by good taste. If the mouth be opened
very widely, and the breath emitted with force, the voice becomes
imperious : such is the tone in which a military officer gives the word
of command. Words that are in themselves simple enough, when
uttered in a hard, brusque tone, become offensive. When the sounds
are uttered softly, with some degree of tremulousness, the words suc
ceeding one another with deliberate slowness and imperceptible low
ering of pitch, the sympathy of the hearer is awakened. Some wom
en, it is asserted, possess a wonderful power of thus rendering their
entreaties irresistible. Historians affirm that Cicero s graceful utter
ance added greatly to the persuasive force of his words. The orator
who possesses a good voice, and who can at will assume the tones
that best agree with the sentiments, emotions, and passions, which he
would arouse, will win the hearts of his auditors, whereas the grandest
oration delivered by an unpractised speaker would fail to move them.

Singing requires of the vocal organs functions very different from
those required for speaking. Furthermore, a good physical constitu
tion and perfect regularity in the functions of the organism, are of
inestimable value to the artist. In the emission of the voice the re
spiratory movements must be performed without strain or effort ; they
must be so regulated as to make the inspiration short and easy, and
the expiration slow and prolonged. There is a struggle between the
organs which retain the breath and those which expel it ; practice,
youth, and good health, are the conditions upon which an adjustment
must be based. In the highly-gifted artist the larynx holds its ordi
nary position notwithstanding the variations of intensity and pitch of

1 Memory and the faculty of coordinating words depend upon the brain. It appears,
from Broca s researches, that these faculties are destroyed by a lesion of the third fron
tal convolution of the left side.

5 i6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the sounds produced. Being implicated in some of the more ener
getic movements of the tongue, it rises or falls, but to no purpose.
The larynx of the singer, while fixed in its position, multiplies its
performance; the suppleness of all its parts is a matter of prime im
portance. The vibrations of the vocal lips and the resonance of the
vestibule determine the timbre of the glottic sounds ; the configura
tion of the pharynx and of the buccal cavity, by modifying the
sounds formed in the glottis, produces the timbre of the voice. This
cannot be altered to any considerable degree by even the most pow
erful efforts of the will. Professors of singing injure their pupils "by
prescribing in too absolute a manner the mouth arrangements which
they themselves find most serviceable. Each individual must follow
Nature, and M. Mandl had good reasons for begging singing-masters
never to forget this truth.

Our ear is not affected by all sounds ; those which are very low or
very acute are not perceived. The limits of hearing are usually set
at forty, and at forty thousand vibrations per second. Persons of ex
treme sensibility are not restricted within these limits, but their gift
is not a source of pleasure ; every one knows how painful it is to
hear sounds that are too acute. Song is the result of modulated
sounds separated from one another by harmonic intervals. The
whole series of sounds from the grave to the acute is the musical
scale ; the voice has a greater or less range in different individuals.
In the language of musicians, each series of consecutive and homo
geneous sounds is a register ; we have the chest-register, the head-
register, etc. A strange idea has gone abroad : singers, being led
astray by the resonance of the arch of the palate, and by certain pe
culiar sensations caused by the action of various muscles, have sup
posed that the voice comes now from the chest, again from the head.
But, as every one must now be aware, voice is produced always in the
glottis. Hence it were well, as M. Mandl advises, to abandon the use
of terms which had their origin in a misapprehension, and to use in
stead of them the terms lower and upper register.

Singing requires far more precise arrangements of the vocal organs
than does speaking. At the moment of producing the sound the glot
tic orifice should be absolutely shut; the voice-emission will be good
provided the vocal lips go apart to the proper extent with a kind of
suddenness. It is interesting to follow with the eye, by means of the
laryngoscope, the play of the instrument in producing successively
low and high notes. In producing very low notes the glottic orifice
assumes the form of a very long, regular ellipsoid, with both extremi
ties pointed ; as the sound rises in pitch, the vocal lips at once approach
each other, and the orifice, constricted at one point, appears to be
divided into two parts ; the pitch still rising, the uttermost limit of
the register is attained, and then the glottic orifice becomes a linear
slit. Passing to the upper register the head-voice or falsetto a

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 517

curious change takes place suddenly in the configuration of the glot
tis : it appears to be absolutely shut below and open above. In pro
portion as the orifice is narrowed, the sound grows higher. The
singer recognizes the registers by the ear from the timbre, the physi
ologist by the eye ; for the latter, one of the registers consists of the
series of sounds produced by the glottis when open along its entire
length, the other register represents the series of sounds given forth
by the glottis open through only a limited portion of its orifice.

The ordinary limits of the voice include about two octaves of the
musical scale ; by practice one can easily attain 2|- octaves, but a com
pass of three octaves, and especially of 3^ octaves, is very exceptional.
Hence, at the beginning of the present century, Catalani was regarded
as a sort of prodigy. In classing voices according to pitch we rec
ognize three kinds of voice in men, viz., bass, barytone, and tenor,
and three in women, contralto, mezzo-soprano, and soprano. Bass
voices rarely fall below 173 vibrations, and soprano seldom exceed
2,069 vibrations per second. Still there have been deep voices which
produced the note corresponding to 87 vibrations, and acute voices
which attained as many as 2,784. The most famous cantatrices of our
day are instances of this. 1 The different types of voice are characterized
no less by their timbre than by their range. Voices present so many
varieties, they are so personal, that thorough classification is almost
impossible. Endless shades of difference are produced by the degree
of intensity of the harmonics : if the intensity is great, the voice is
brilliant, mordant ; if feeble, the voice is soft, sombre. In the larynx
itself, and in the trachea, there occurs a resonance, the effects of which
have not yet been determined. In bass voices they are very note
worthy. The famous Lablache would have been an excellent subject
for experiments by physiologists.

Having ascertained all the functions of the vocal apparatus, and
accounted for the origin of the sounds of speech and singing, we may
well be proud of the advance made by science, yet we cannot but be
chagrined to think that it is not in our power to determine to what
peculiarities of organic conformation the different kinds of voice are to
l)e attributed. All that we can affirm with certainty is, that the sound
produced is acute in proportion to the shortness of the vocal cords.
One might be inclined to believe that the larynx is more voluminous
in bassi than in tenori, in contralti than in soprani ; but this is not
universally the case. We cannot determine either the compass or
the quality of a voice from seeing the instrument. The elasticity,
suppleness, and contractility of the tissues, must have an immense in-

1 In general the bass voice extends from fa x = 173 vibrations to re-a = 580 vibra
tions ; the barytone from lai = 217 vibrations to fa 3 = 690; the tenor from re 2 = 290
vibrations to si 3 = 976 ; the contralto from so! 2 = 387 to fa 4 = 1,381 ; the mezzo-
soprano from sia = 488 to lai = 1,740; the soprano from uts = 517 to ut 5 = 2,069
vibrations.

5 i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

fiueuce on the glottic sounds, and we possess no means of measuring
these qualities.

The character of the voice is fixed from the time when the larynx
has reached its full development. So long as the activity of youth
continues, the voice will retain this character without any very con
siderable modification ; still, by exercise it will perhaps gain intensity,
and may be improved in point of timbre. Suppleness and agility of
the organs are acquired only at the cost of labor ; this is shown from
the history of many a singer. The voice of the young Marie Garcia
was at first harsh and husky, but afterward it became the sweet voice
of Malibran. Still, as a rule, natural physical gifts manifest them
selves prior to any attempt at culture.

As old age approaches, the play of the larynx becomes difficult ; at
first the tone of the voice is lowered, and then its intensity is lessened ;
the breath comes with less force. Sometimes disease impairs the in
strument before the advent of age. While appearing to be intact, the
organ often ceases to discharge its functions perfectly, owing to more
or less serious affection of the nervous action. Mandl has, by means
of electricity, momentarily restored voices that had been thus de
stroyed. Songstresses have now and then irretrievably lost their
voices in consequence of overstrain of the vocal organs. Here we are
reminded of the case of Cornelia Falcon.

Amid the refinements of civilized life, singing is prized only in so
far as it is an art ; when it rises to that dignity, it attracts crowds.
A man or a woman possessing no matter how fine a voice, must begin
by going to school. The instrument, whose admirable mechanism we
have seen, is not entirely under control, except after much study and
long-continued and methodical exercise. This is true of all organs
subject to the will, as every one knows from experience, as in the
employment of the hands. Though expert in all the movements of
the larynx and the mouth, the singer cannot, even with a superb
voice, produce brilliant effects, save by the aid of mind. From mind
alone come expression, taste, style, and these qualities are all personal.
Sensibility, whether real or feigned, is always an element of success.
The artist is advised never to give way to the passions which he
expresses, for mental commotion is quickly succeeded by extreme
fatigue ; he may attain a perfect imitation of passions, meanwhile pre
serving a tranquil mind. Still, are not emotions which are felt always
the most communicable ?

After we have studied the human voice in its various manifestations,
the voice of animals seems to us to be scarcely worthy of notice. The
barking of the dog, the mewing of the cat, the bleating of the sheep,
undoubtedly constitute a very scanty language. These cries of animals
do but annoy us ; but it must be remembered that they are intended
for other ears than ours. The warbling of small birds alone affords us
pleasure ; it possesses resemblances which cause pleasing illusions ; it

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 519

seems to express feelings common to ourselves, and hence we like it.
The interest attaching to a comparison of the vocal apparatus of
animals with that of man has long been appreciated, and the hope
has been entertained of being able to explain the nature of all kinds
of voice by studying the structure of the organs. Toward the end of
the last century, Vicq d Azyr attacked this problem. Having collected
larynges of a number of animals, he regarded them with a sort of
enthusiasm ; he expected to get from them a revelation. " It is a fine
spectacle," said he, "to see at a glance the structure of those infinitely-
diversified instruments with which each animal produces^ its own
proper modulations, thus contributing to Nature s grand concert."

The anatomical characters of the vocal apparatus are now pretty
well known as regards most of the mammalia. The larynx of these
animals is formed upon the same plan as that of man; in monkeys,
the resemblance is extreme. The impossibility of speaking is due, as
we have reason to suppose, to the conformation of the buccal cavity,
the lips, and the tongue. The studies of naturalists, which as yet
have not been directed to this point, do not warrant any positive
statement : nevertheless, the power possessed by some species of
pronouncing one or two syllables justifies a presumption. Does not
this vestige of speech indicate the very limited extent of a faculty,
not even a trace of which is found in most animals. In 1715 the
great Leibnitz announced to our Academy the existence in Meissen
of a talking dog, " a peasant s dog, of the most ordinary appearance,
and of medium size." This extraordinary animal had learned, says
the narrator, some thirty words ; these it would repeat after its mas
ter. The historian of the Academic des Sciences declares that he
would not have ventured to state such a fact " without such an au
thority as M. Leibnitz, an eye-witness," But, despite so high an
authority, the story is a fable. Of the most intelligent dog we still
must say, " All he lacks is speech." Were it not that Nature raises
an obstacle, surely monkeys that live in the company of man would
make the attempt to speak. We must conclude that their intelligence
does not incline them toward this sort of imitation, and that their
organs are not adapted for articulation.

It is a curious and very interesting fact that, before receiving in
struction of any kind, young deaf-mutes who live together quickly
discover means of understanding each other, so that they hardly ever
misinterpret the feelings and wants expressed by the gesticulations,
touches, and facial-muscle action, agreed upon. This instance of a
convention between individuals not possessed of the power of employ
ing language of necessity carries our thoughts to the actions of cer
tain animals. The mammalia have a voice that is susceptible of in
flexions and intonations more or less diversified according to the
species ; these they employ in making known to each other their appe
tites, their wants, to call one another, to announce to one another their

520 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

presence. It is often said that animals possess only cries, but this
statement is too general. The cat says miau, which is a very plain
articulation of a labial consonant and three vowels; the word is well
formed, and one might suppose it to be Chinese. The cat pronounces
this word in many different ways, each having a meaning. If he
wants company, he announces his presence in a strong voice ; if he
wants to be fed, or to have a door opened, his voice is soft and
gentle; here is the accent of entreaty. If there is any delay, the tone
grows higher, showing impatience. There is a slow, weak miati,
which the French translate into " Comme je m ennuie ! " (" How weary
I am ! ") and again there is the wheedling miau, full of pretty modula
tions, showing plainly a wish to please. Further, the cat says very
distinctly ronron, a genuine word formed of trills and nasals ; here
the tongue and the soft palate perform movements which we know
from our own experience. This ronron now means " Thank you;"
again, it expresses joy. When moved by a feeling of dislike for an
individual of his own race, or of jealousy of a rival, the animal spits
and growls, thus giving utterance to threats and imprecations.

The -number of mammals which can articulate syllables is small.
Sheep utter no sound but that monotonous ba. Some gibbons of
the island of Java, when they wish to inspire fear, cry out with fury
ra ra. For most animals guttural sounds appear to be uttered with
greatest ease. The dog, though highly gifted as regards memory,
the sentiment of affection, and intelligence, has no language, but only
cries; he barks. Short, sudden expirations of air through the glottis
produce this well-known voice ; yelping is only a modified form of
barking, expressive of joy. Howling is the result of a lengthy ex
piration with great resonance in the pharynx ; it expresses profound
grief or pain. Dogs express their wants more frequently by move
ments of the body, by the play of the physiognomy, and by touching
with the muzzle than by the voice. They appear to communicate
admirably with one another when organizing an expedition ; they in
form one another of the presence of objects that gratify their ap
petite. We once saw in the midst of a meadow, far from any house,
the flayed carcass of an ox, which had lain for several days absolutely
abandoned. A lonely dog, drawn no doubt by the scent, came to get
a meal, and went back to the village to tell his acquaintance of what
he had discovered; in less than an hour the carcass was torn in pieces
by the teeth of a great troop of dogs.

Opportunities of studying the language of animals in the state of
freedom are unfrequent ; all animals flee from man, and very wisely.
In captivity, and cut off from their own kind, they become silent, or
merely utter a few cries or murmurs. Were a human being to be
held as a prisoner in a family of chimpanzees he would be reduced to
the same extremity. Travelers have sometimes observed monkeys
when well within range of sight and hearing; they have always ob-

VOICE IN MAN AND IN ANIMALS. 521

served that the different explosions of voice have each its own
meaning, whenever it is designed to establish concert of action be
tween individuals. The cercopitheci, the most graceful and sprightly
monkeys of Africa, live together in more or less numerous groups.
Having for their usual dwelling-places the branches of trees, they
descend to the ground with great misgiving, and only in order to go
foraging. On an expedition the band of cercopitheci march under
the command of a chief, who is always an old male experienced in
the ways of men and animals. At first the troop advance cautiously,
passing along the highest branches of the trees. Now and then the
chief climbs into one of the loftiest tree-tops and peers into space. If
all is well, he makes announcement accordingly in guttural tones,
and the troop show that they are reassured ; if the chief suspects or
perceives danger, he utters a peculiar cry, which is understood by
all, and the troop retreat in confusion. The marauders, having
reached the edge of the forest, descend to the ground. Then begins
a hideous massacre of sorgho and maize. The sajous, those pretty
little South American monkeys kept in every menagerie, also show
the resources of the inarticulate voice as a means of communication
among animals. One day the naturalist Rengger, while wandering
along the border of a forest, observed a family of these monkeys
whose conduct interested him. One individual, having parted com
pany with the rest, had found an orange-tree loaded with ripe fruit.
Without going to the trouble of turning about, he uttered a series of
short cries, and made for the tree with the speed of an arrow. The
others understood all, and in an instant were assembled amid the
branches of the tree, enjoying the savory fruit. If man had no artic
ulate speech, he would have no difficulty in constructing a language
by the aid of sounds or cries diversified by intonation, intensity, and
resonance, and variously combined. Such a language no doubt could
never equal the languages of Homer, of Dante, of Shakespeare, and of
Bossuet, but it would answer all the essential needs of life. By sup
posing such an imaginary though realizable mode of communication,
we may form an idea of the more or less limited language of animals.
In mammals the sounds of the voice differ considerably with re
spect to volume, timbre, and pitch ; these differences we can in some
measure account for by peculiarities in the conformation of the larynx.
In horned animals the vocal cords are lax, but little prominent, never
coming near to one another, nor vibrating with much force. The
sounds they produce are grave, as in the lowing of cattle. The ro
dents, as hares, rabbits, squirrels, and mice, whose vocal cords are
thin, emit acute cries. Some species, belonging to different mamma
lian groups, have air-pouches opening into the larynx which produce
extraordinary resonance. Some monkeys are distinguished for the
enormous development of these pouches, and their voice is very loud.
The howling monkeys, also called stentors, which inhabit the deepest

522 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

forest recesses of the New World, can be heard, says Humboldt, at the
distance of a kilometre and a half, and farther still according to other
travelers. In the elephant the lateral cartilages of the larynx do not
come into mutual contact, and the vocal cords, having an oblique di
rection, seem to be incapable of great tension ; hence the voice of the
elephant is deep, but at the same time very powerful. If we could
observe in animals the play of the larynx during the emission of the
voice, we should discover many curious and instructive actions of the
glottis. But here we meet with an almost insuperable difficulty, for
we can place but little reliance on the good-will of animals. Never
theless, Mandl, trusting to his skill in the use of the laryngoscope, by
no means despairs of success, knowing well that by dint of patience
we often succeed in removing the most formidable obstacles. After
man, birds hold the most prominent place among animate things in
the concert of Nature ; they enliven field, forest, and garden, with
an infinity of chirrupings, leading one s thoughts to dwell on the
pleasure of living. The structure and mechanism of the vocal appa
ratus of birds have been studied by many naturalists. George Cuvier
discovered the precise point where the voice is formed. Birds have
two larynges, one at the top of the trachea, and the other at the
bottom. It is the latter alone which produces the sounds : the former
acts only as a resonator. This is easily shown by experiment : if we
cut the trachea in the middle, the voice remains. The vocal organ
has the form of a box, to which anatomists give the name of drum.
It is formed of the lowermost rings of the trachea and the upper
most rings of the bronchi. Commonly the larynx is divided in its in
ferior portion, sometimes by the angle of union of the bronchial tubes,
again by a bony plate which serves as a point of attachment for a
membrane rising from the inner margin of each of these tubes, and
bounding the glottis with an opposing prominence, the edge of which
is elastic. Thus two lips discharge the functions of vocal cords ; they
become tense or relaxed by the action of a muscular apparatus which
in some cases is very simple, in others highly complex. The enormous
variety which obtains in the vocal powers of birds necessitates a cor
responding diversity in the details of the structure of the larynx and
in the conformation of the trachea.

Parrots, being social in their nature, live in large flocks in the
most favored climates of the globe ; their habit of prattling is not
impaired by captivity. When several individuals are together, they
appear sometimes to engage in interminable conversations. On the
alert for every voice-sound, and even for every noise, parrots imitate
these with wonderful ease ; thus they readily imitate the articulate
speech of man, a phenomenon as yet unexplained. The movements of
the tongue, no doubt, play an important part in the articulation of
these sounds, but the nature of the resonances leads us to suspect a
special activity of the superior larynx. The researches which have

WHAT ARE BATS? 523

been undertaken into this matter will perhaps throw some light upon
one of the most singular aptitudes possessed by animals. It is com
monly supposed that parrots cannot attach any meaning to the
phrases which they have learned ; but this is not strictly exact. Oc
casionally individuals possessed of the advantages of great natural
intelligence and good training employ words to make requests ; they
make proper reply to a question or to a sign. It might be supposed
that parrots owe their power of speaking to the peculiar conforma
tion of their tongue ; but this is rendered doubtful by the perform
ances of the magpie, the blackbird, and the starling. In these birds
the tongue is thin, and yet they have no difficulty in pronouncing any
articulate sound ; this fact gives strength to the idea of the influence
of the superior larynx. A starling, distinguished for its power of speak
ing, which at one time we had occasion to observe, very well knew the
value of sundry words. He gave expression to his wants in good
French, emphasizing his words with the flapping of his wings. This
bird was very fond of the bath, and often called for water; on seeing a
person taking hold of a pitcher the bird would exclaim, "Come quick,
come quick ! " with increasing force in case he was obliged to wait.

Most small birds have their call, their chirp of joy or of fright,
their battle-cries : all these voice-explosions, containing as they do both
vowel and consonant sounds, show how easy and natural articulation
is to these animals. The species which possess the power of singing
have a very complex vocal apparatus. The nightingale excels all the
other songsters of the woods in power, clearness, and sweetness of
tone. Her notes, whether joyous or plaintive, are always melodious.
This bird acquires the power of song only after long practice. The
young ones are usually very indifferent singers, and it is only those
individuals which possess special gifts that give to the vocal art its
highest expression. Among all the pretty feathered denizens of our
woods, the males alone possess a fine voice ; they utter their song in
order to win mates who cannot compete in vocal talent. They are
mute for a great part of the year, but, when the mating season ap
proaches, their nervous action is quickened, and the blood is deter
mined to the organs of voice.

WHAT AEE BATS?

BY ST. GEOEGE MIVART, F. E. S.

THE group of animals called " Bats" is one full of interest to those
specially occupied with the study of animal structure the anato
mist, the physiologist, and the philosophical zoologist. At the same
time it mus*t be confessed that bats are far from exciting that general
interest which in fact they merit. This disregard, however, is very

5 24 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

natural. The small size of the bats inhabiting this and other parts
of the temperate regions of the globe conspires with their nocturnal
habits to remove them from general observation, while the great simi
larity one to another of their different species is an obstacle to their
popularity even among zoologists since it makes their discrimination
and classification a matter of difficulty.

Yet bats are, as I hope we shall see, really very interesting ani
mals. The bat exhibits to us the body of a beast, specially modified
to live the life of a bird, and at the same time serves to give us a fair
conception of certain ancient reptilian forms, the remains of which
are found deeply buried in deposits made untold ages ago in the
secondary rocks.

But what is a bat ? Probably not one of my readers would be
likely, if called upon to answer, to fall into the old error of consider
ing it a kind of bird !

All who have ever examined a bat closely, and observed its fur,
ears, and teeth, must, I think, have recognized it as a kind of beast.
Its real affinities, however, serve excellently well to demonstrate ho\v
little mere external aspect can be trusted as a guide to fundamental
relationship. The bat is essentially an animal of the air all its struct
ure is modified for flight, and it rarely descends to the surface of the
ground. The mole, on the contrary, is essentially an animal of the
earth all its structure is modified for burrowing, and it rarely ascends
to the surface of the ground. The contrast could hardly be more
complete, and yet the bat and the mole are ^cousins the mole, the
hedgehog, and the shrew-mouse, belonging to a group of beasts with
which the bats show no inconsiderable affinity.

I have spoken of the opinion that the bat is a kind of bird. This
view seems to have been entertained by the Jews, and the "bird of
darkness" is placed, in Deuteronomy xiv. 18, among the unclean ones
forbidden as food :

"And the stork and the heron after her kind, and the lapwing and
the bat."

Aristotle, though he placed the bats among flying animals, and
therefore among birds, distinctly recognized the differences in their
organization ; and the same thing may be affirmed of Pliny. But in
spite of this, and although Albertus Magnus, in the middle ages, was
fully acquainted with the true nature of bats, as beasts, as well as with
their winter torpidity, we find later on a retrogression of opinion.

Thus Belon, in 1557, in his "Histoire de la Nature des Oyseaux,"
includes bats with his birds. At the same time, he was not unac
quainted with the mode of their reproduction.

Yet later by nearly a century in 1645, Aldrovandus decided
that bats were rather birds than beasts, and this in spite of his care
ful study of them, as proved by his beginning to distinguish their
different kinds one from another.

WHAT ARE BATS f 525

Some twenty-five years later, Ray gave them their true position
among quadrupeds a position which they have ever since retained.

The Teutonic mind seems early to have appreciated the true na
ture of bats, as we may judge from the German name, Fledermaus
and the old English tei"m,flittermouse.

Let us look a little closely at our subject of to-day the bat.

In the first place, there is a little rounded body, covered with soft
fur, which is indeed, what Shakespeare calls it, "wool," when giving
the ingredients of the caldron of Macbeth s witches.

There is a small head, little eyes, large ears, a tail, and two pairs
of limbs of very unequal size. The hind-pair (the legs) are of mod
erate length and singularly disposed, so that the knees are turned
almost backward, like our elbows.

Each leg terminates in a foot, furnished with five toes, each with
a long, curved claw, all of about the same length. These toes are not
webbed, like those of a duck, but are free.

The other pair of limbs (the arms and hands) are of exceeding
length. Both the arm and forearm are long especially the latter
but it is the fingers which are so wonderfully drawn out, and they are
webbed, like the toes of a water-fowl. Moreover, the web not only con
nects these long fingers together, but also connects them with the
sides of the body and with the legs (as far as the ankle) ; and does
not stop even here, but continues on to the tail, thus connecting it
with the two legs.

This large web or membranous expansion has two names. The
part belonging to the hand and joining the sides of the body (which
is supported by the fingers as an umbrella by its rods) is termed the
alar membrane. The part connecting the legs with the tail is called
the interfemoral membrane.

Looking more closely, however, we find that, though the four
fingers of each hand are thus bound together, the thumb is free, stand
ing out at a wide angle, and furnished with a very long and strong
hooked claw. Of the four fingers, it is only the first which is clawed.

The uses made by the bat of its singularly-formed limbs are, of
course, in exact correspondence with their structure. The fore-limbs
are true organs of flight ; the hind-limbs and tail have a rudder-like
action. Besides flight (their predominant mode of motion), bats can
crawl upon the surface of the earth with an awkward, shuffling gait.
When so crawling, the wings are closed (the long fingers then lying
side by side), and the animal rests on its wrists and hind-feet, the
body being dragged forward by the help of the strong, hooked thumb
nails, which also help it to climb with ease up any rough surface, even
though perpendicular.

When at rest, bats usually hang suspended, head downward, by
the claws of their feet, though occasionally they turn round and hang
from the claws of their thumbs.

526 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Most nocturnal beasts have large eyes, but most bats have very
small ones.

This is perhaps due to the fact that bats in their flight are guided
by an extraordinarily delicate sense of touch so delicate as to seem
almost like a sixth sense.

The external ear of most bats appears at first to be double a very
small one seeming to stand up inside the larger one. This appear-

FIG. 1. HEAD OF LARGE-BAKED BAT. , Tragus.

ance, however, is due merely to the very large development of a little
piece which in ourselves projects backward as a small rounded process
guarding externally the opening of our ear, and called the tragus.

The food of our English bats consists of insects, and their teeth
bristle with sharp points, well suited to pierce the chitinous cases by
which the bodies of insects are protected.

The stomach (like that of most beasts which live upon a purely
animal diet) is a simple, short, and rounded bag.

The female is provided with a pair of milk-glands, situated on the
breast as in the apes and in man.

The skeleton of the bat, when compared with those of some other
animals, affords an excellent example of how fundamental uniformity
of structure may underlie forms which are strikingly different in ac
cordance with diverging habits of life.

I have already called attention to the divergent aspects of the
aerial bat and the subterranean mole. Yet the bones of the flying-
organ of the bat closely resemble those of the burrowing organ of the
mole, save as regards the relative shapes and dimensions of the com
ponent bones. But, while in the bat these bones are drawn out into
excessive length and tenuity, in the mole they exhibit the maximum
of concentration and robustness. Now, both these conditions are but
diverging manifestations of the human structure, and the same indeed
may be said of such extreme modifications as the fore-leg of the horse
or the paddle of the whale.

But the bat and the mole present us with a special point of simi
larity in their skeleton not found in the other animals named, including
ourselves.

It is that the breastbone in both the bat and mole develops a me
dian ridge or keel. This keel serves to afford additional surface for
the attachment of powerful muscles which pass thence to the arms,

WHAT ARE BATS

527

and which, in the bat, by their contraction, strike the wings down
ward in flight.

Every one present must have observed, when carving a fowl, that
there is a ridge or keel to the breastbone, and that a voluminous mass
of muscle the breast of the fowl is situated on each side of such

sc

FIG. 2. $ c, wrist-bones ; p, bones of thumb ; m,- 4 , bones of middle part of hands.

keel. Now, our bat has not got such a mass of muscle on each side
of the keel of its breastbone as has the bird, and for a very good
reason. In the bat, as in ourselves, the muscles which antagonize
those just noticed (and which draw the arms away from the breast)
are situated in the back ; but, in the bird, both the muscles which
strike the wings downward, and those which raise them upward, are
together placed upon the breast, and hence its much deeper and
more conspicuous keel. Still, though the muscular structure of the
breast of a bat is not so perfectly arranged for flight as is that of a
bird, it is an approximation to bird-structure, and one we can well
understand from the similarity of action. But it may puzzle some of
my hearers at first to think why the mole, of all creatures in the world,
should have a breastbone at all like that of a bird. But a moment s
reflection will make it obvious that the mole also requires most pow
erful breast-muscles, in order that it may dig its way through the soil
with the wonderful speed with which it does dig through it. Similar
causes produce similar effects, and thus it is that the mole, like the bat
and the bird, comes to have a keeled breastbone.

5 2g THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The membrane of the bat s wing is a structure of extreme and
peculiar delicacy as regards the sense of touch, and the perfection of
this sense is doubtless contributed to by a special condition of its
blood-vessels. Although the sense of touch depends, of course, di
rectly on the nerves, the functional activity of the nerves depends
upon the quantity and the sufficiently rapid renewal of the blood sent
to them. This is shown by the familiar examples of numbness brought
about by checking the supply of blood to any part. with a ligature, as
also by the increased sensibility occasioned by inflammation ; that is,
through a more Copious supply of blood. Now, in most animals, as
in ourselves, the heart pulsates with rhythmical contractility; but
the blood-vessels which distribute the blood over the body are not
themselves contractile, however highly elastic they may be. In the
bat s wing, however, the vessels which convey blood toward the heart
(i. e., the veins) have been found by Dr. Wharton Jones to be them
selves positively contractile, and so fitted in a most exceptional man
ner to help on the blood-supply, thus indirectly augmenting the power
of touch.

This exceptional condition of the vascular system may, then, have
something to do with that exceptional perfection of the power of sen
sation before referred to, and which was experimentally demonstrated
by Spallanzani. He found, not having the fear of anti-vivisectionists
before his eyes, that bats deprived of sight, and as far as possible also
of smell and hearing, were still able not only to avoid ordinary obsta
cles to their flight in strange localities, but even to pass betw r een threads
purposely extended in various directions across the room in which
the experiments were made. This skill it is believed is due to an exces
sively delicate power of sensation possessed by the flying membrane
a power enabling the creatures by atmospheric pressure and vibration
to feel, before contact, the nearness of adjacent objects. Dr. Dobson,
who has paid more attention to bats, perhaps, than any other living
naturalist, is disposed to think, and very reasonably so, that tactile
power may be thus greatly increased by such increase of the surface
on which tactile sensations may be received as is found in the bat s
wing, and that this is the explanation of the mysterious power re
vealed to us by Spallanzani.

The flight of the bat compared with that of most birds is exces
sively fluttering; but it is a true and perfect flight, and therefore
very different from the analogous action of other beasts called " fly
ing," such as the flying-squirrels, the flying-opossums, and the flying-
lemur. In these animals the skin of the flanks can indeed be extended
outward to the arm and the leg, and when so stretched (as when these
animals take long jumps) seems as a sort of parachute to sustain them
somewhat in the air, and so far break their fall as to enable them to
flit from one bough to another; but they cannot truly fly. The flying-
lemur is the best furnished in this respect, as it has not only a very

WHAT ARE BATS?

529

extensive " alar membrane," but a short expansion of skin connects
together not only the fingers but the toes also (which is not the case
in bats), and has a true interfemoral membrane extending from the
hind-legs to the tail.

FIG. 3. A FLYING FKOG.

There is no other such instance in beasts, or in any existing rep
tiles; but web-footedness is carried to such an extreme degree in a
certain frog found in Borneo as to give rise to the conjecture that it
was a flying animal.

Mr. Wallace, in his travels in the Malay Archipelago, encountered
in Borneo a tree-frog (Ehacophorus) , to which he considered that the
term " flying " might be applied. He tells us :

" One of the most curious and interesting creatures which I met with in
Borneo was a large tree-frog, which was brought me by one of the Chinese
workmen. He assured me that he had seen it come down in a* slanting direction
from a high tree as if it flew. On examining it I found the toes very long and
fully webbed to their extremity, so that, when expanded, they offered a surface
much larger than the body. The fore-legs were also bordered by a membrane,
and the body was capable of considerable inflation. The back and limbs were of
a very deep, shining, green color, the under surface of the inner toes yellow, while
the webs were black rayed with yellow. The body was about four inches long,
while the webs of each hind-foot, when fully expanded, covered a surface of four
square inches, and the webs of all the feet together about twelve square inches.
As the extremities of the toes have dilated disks for adhesion, showing the creat-
VOL. ix. 34

53 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ure to be a true tree-frog, it is difficult to imagine that this immense membrane
of the toes can be for the purpose of swimming only, and the account of the
Chinaman that it flew down from the tree becomes more credible."

Although no existing reptile is thus furnished, there is a small
Asiatic lizard which is ordinarily spoken of as " flying," the Draco
volans. And, in fact, though this creature cannot truly fly, but only
flit, it has a membrane which can be extended from each side of the
body, and which, like the bat s wing, is supported by a number of
bony rods. These rods, however, are not, as in the bat, enormously
elongated fingers, but are elongated ribs, which stand out freely from
the body when jumping, but otherwise are folded back against the
flanks.

Existing reptiles, then, present us with no close resemblance to
bat-structure ; but when we come to extinct reptiles reptiles which
flourished during and anterior to the deposition of our chalk-cliffs
the secondary or mesozoic period we there find reptiles to have ex
isted which present the most striking analogies with existing bats in
all that regards their modes of locomotion, and their structure as far
as it is related to such modes of locomotion.

These reptiles flew in the same way that bats do, by means of a
vast membrane extending from each enormously-elongated hand to
the adjacent side of the body.

While, however, in the bat all the fingers of each hand are enor
mously elongated (to support the alar membrane) the thumb alone re
maining free in these flying reptiles only a single finger of each hand
was thus elongated, the others remaining short, and being provided
with claws like the thumb.

With the approach of the winter season bats (like dormice) fall
into a peculiar state of winter sleep called hibernation. For this pur
pose they generally assemble together in large numbers, in out-of-the-
way places, caverns, hollow trees, or the roofs of buildings, hanging
head downward by the claws of their feet. During this condition the
most important functions of life breathing and the circulation of the
blood are performed only with exceedingly-reduced activity, the
temperature of the body becoming notably diminished.

Some of our English bats may be kept in confinement and partly
domesticated for. a time, small pieces of raw meat being given to them
in lieu of their natural insect-food. Speaking of the long-eared bat,
Mr. Bell tells us :

"It is more readily tamed than any other, and may soon be brought to ex
hibit a considerable degree of familiarity with those who feed and caress it. I
have frequently watched them when in confinement, and have observed them to
be bold and familiar even from the first. They are very cleanly ; not only clean
ing themselves after feeding, and at other times, with great assiduity, but oc
casionally assisting each other in this office. They are very playful, too, and
their gambols are not the less amusing from their awkwardness. They run over

WHAT ARE BATS? 531

and against each other, pretending to bite, but never harming their companions
of the same species ; though I have seen them exhibit a sad spirit of persecution
to an unfortunate Barbastelle which was placed in the same cage with them.
They may be readily brought to eat from the hand, and my friend Mr. James
Sowerby had one which, when at liberty in the parlor, would fly to the hand of
any of the young people who held up a fly toward it, and, pitching on the hand,
take the fly without hesitation. If the insect were held between the lips, the
bat would then settle on its young patron s cheek, and take the fly with great
gentleness from the mouth ; and so far was this familiarity carried that, when
either of my young friends made a humming noise with the mouth in imitation
of an insect, the bat would search about the lips for the promised dainty."

One of the " young friends " here referred to is now the esteemed
secretary at the Botanical Gardens, and he has assured me of the truth
of the anecdote.

The cry of the bat is exceedingly shrill, so much so that some
persons ears are quite unable to detect it.

Homer compares the voices of the ghosts to the cries of bats.
In the twenty-fourth book of the " Odyssey," 6, he says : " As when
bats in a corner of a great cave, when one of them has fallen from off
the cluster so they (the ghosts) went along screaming."

Or, as Pope gives it :

Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintive vent
Their hollow screams along the deep descent,
As in the cavern of some rifted den,
Where flock nocturnal bats, and birds obscene ;
Clustered they hang, till at some sudden shock
They move, and murmurs run through all the rock.
So cowering fled the sable heap of ghosts."

Bats bring forth but one or two young ones at a birth when they
are received into the interfemoral membrane as into a cradle the
mother then hanging suspended not by her feet but by her thumbs.

The young are born naked and blind, and are suckled at the breast
much as is the human infant.

There are many kinds of bats, though their number is uncertain.

There are some fourteen species even in England, and at least
three hundred and twenty, arranged in some seventy-nine genera, in
the world at large.

One of our English bats, already referred to as "the long- eared
bat," does indeed merit its name, since it has relatively the largest
ears found in the whole animal kingdom, being about equal to the
length of its entire body. They are capable of being folded up, and
generally are so folded, during sleep.

Another kind of bat found in England is called the leaf-nosed bat,
because in it not the ear but the nose is the seat of extraordinary
skin-development productions of skin curiously folded surrounding
and surmounting the external nostrils.

53*

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The use of this membrane, according to Dr. Dobson, is to serve as
a tactile organ (like the wings) ; and this is the more probable, seeing
that that family of leaf-nosed bats which is represented in England
have the smallest eyes, and are devoid of a tragus or inner part of
the seemingly double ear before spoken of.

Bats are divisible into two great groups. One of them includes
all the insect-eating bats (with or without nose-leaves), more or less

like the bats which inhabit this country. They have almost always
teeth such as those already described, often a very large tragus to the
ear, and a stomach short and rounded, or at least not prolonged at
its pyloric (or more specially digestive) extremity.

These bats are subdivided into various families, three of which
alone immediately concern us : 1. The Vespertilionidce, which in-

WHAT ABE EATS? 533

eludes, among very many others, all the English bats without a nose-
leaf; 2. The Rhinolophidce, which includes, among very many others,
the English leaf-nosed bats ; and 3. The Phyllostomidce, or leaf-nosed
bats of America.

The other group of bats are made up of those, mostly of large
size, called flying-foxes, of which we have specimens now living in
the Zoological Gardens. They are confined to the tropical and sub
tropical regions of the Old World and the Pacific, but are not found
even in the hottest regions of South America. They have grinding
teeth, which are not drawn out into sharp points, but have their
crowns marked simply with a longitudinal furrow, in accordance with
their fruit-eating habits, and their stomach (also in accordance with
this habit) is much prolonged at its pyloric, or more specially diges
tive, end.

Certain leaf-nosed bats of South America go by the formidable
name of vampires, from their reputed blood-sucking habits.

Although such a habit could only have been attributed erroneously
to the entire group, one certain kind of this group is very truly blood
sucking, and its organization is peculiarly and very strikingly modi
fied to efficiently subserve this function.

The bat in question is called Desmodus, and the truth as to its
blood-sucking habit has been fully established by the testimony of
Mr. Darwin. 1 He tells us : u The vampire-bat is often the cause of
much trouble, by biting the horses on their withers. The injury is
generally not so much owing to the loss of blood as to the inflamma
tion which the pressure of the saddle afterward produces. The whole
circumstance having been lately doubted in England, I was therefore
fortunate in being present when one (Desmodus cT OrMgnyi) was ac
tually caught on a horse s back. We were bivouacking late one

FIG. 5. TEETH OP THE VAMPIRE BAT (Desmodus). i, cutting-teeth ; c, eye-teeth.

evening near Coquimbo in Chili, when my servant, noticing that one
of the horses w as very restive, went to see what was the matter, and,
fancying he could distinguish something, suddenly put his hand on
the beast s withers, and secured the vampire. In the morning the
spot where the bite had been inflicted was easily distinguished from
being swollen and bloody. The third day afterward we rode the
horse, without any ill effects."

The special modifications of structure which harmonize with this

1 " Journal of Voyage of Beagle," vol. i., p. 22.

534 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

special function are mainly two : First, the form of the teeth ; and,
secondly, that of the stomach.

As to the teeth, the grinding ones are reduced to a minimum both
as to size and number ; while the two middle or cutting teeth of the
upper jaw are of great size, with a sharp cutting edge well fitted to
inflict the small incision needful for the animal s nourishment.

As to the stomach, it presents us with a structure unique in the
animal kingdom. Here it is not the pyloric end of the stomach, but
the opposite or cardiac end, which is produced into an enormously
long pouch, while the opposite or pyloric end is reduced to a mere
rudiment the highly-nutritious food (blood) requiring very little
digestion, but needing a capacious chamber for its speedy reception.

Although this is the only bat perfectly organized to live by blood
sucking exclusively, nevertheless it is probable that various other
kinds practise blood-sucking as at least one part of their mode of
nutrition.

The late distinguished zoologist belonging to the Zoological So
ciety, Mr. Blyth, has observed this habit in a leaf-nosed bat of India,
one belonging to quite another family than that to which the Amer
ican vampire belongs. The bat in question is called Megaderma
Lyra. Respecting its habits Mr. Blyth tells us 1 as follows :

" Chancing one evening to see a rather large bat enter an out-house from
which there was no other egress than by the doorway, I was fortunate in being
able to procure a light, and thus proceed to the capture of the animal. Upon
finding itself pursued, it took three or four turns round the apartment, when
down dropped what at the moment I supposed to be its young, and which I
deposited in my handkerchief. After a somewhat tedious chase, I then secured
the object of my pursuit, which proved to be a fine pregnant female of Mega-
derma Lyra.

"I then looked at the other bat which I had picked up, and, to my surprise,
found it to be a small Vespertilio, nearly allied to the, European V. pipistrellus,
which is exceedingly abundant, not only here, but apparently throughout India,
being the same also, to all appearance, as a small species which my friend Dr.
Cantor procured in Chusan. The individnal now referred to was feeble from
loss of blood, which, it was evident the Megaderma had been sucking from a
large and still bleeding wound under and behind the ear ; and the very obviously
suctorial form of the mouth of the vampire was of itself sufficient to hint the
strong probability of such being the case. During the very short time that
elapsed before I entered the out-house, it did not appear that the depredator had
once alighted : but I am satisfied that it sucked the vital current from its victim
as it flew, having probably seized it on the wing, and that it was seeking a quiet
nook where it might devour the body at leisure. I kept both animals wrapped
separately in my handkerchief till the next morning, when, procuring a con
venient cage, I first put in the Megaderma^ and, after observing it some time, I
placed the other bat with it. No sooner was the latter perceived than the other
fastened on it with, the ferocity of a tiger, again seizing it behind the ear, and

1 In the " Journal of the Asiatic Society of Calcutta," vol. xi., p. 225, quoted in P. Z.
S., 1872, p. 713.

WHAT ARE BATS? 535

made several efforts to fly off with it ; but, finding it must needs stay within the
precincts of the cage, it soon hung by the hind-legs to one side of its prison,
and, after sucking its victim till no more blood was left, commenced devouring
it, and soon left nothing but the head and some portions of the limbs. The
voidings observed very shortly afterward in its cage resembled clotted blood,
which will explain the statement of Stedman and others concerning masses of
congealed blood being always observed near a patient who has been attacked
by a South African vampire. Such, then, is the mode of subsistence of the
lerma."

Bats are most widely diffused over the surface of the globe, as
their powers of flight might lead us to expect. Even Australia so
very peculiar in the character of the other beasts which inhabit it
possesses bats belonging to both of the bat families which are found
in our own island.

But, although the whole group of bats, and also that family to
which most English bats belong the Vespertilionidce are thus
widely distributed, the geographical limits of some families of bats
are very sharply defined.

To appreciate these facts it is necessary to be acquainted with the
geographical areas into which the surface of our globe may be divided,
each considerable tract of the earth s surface having its more or less
peculiar animal population, or fauna, as it has its indigenous plants,
that is, its flora. The earth s surface is divisible into six zoological
regions :

1. The Palcearctic region, or Europe, Asia north of the Himalayas,
and Africa north of the Sahara.

2. The Ethiopian region, or Africa south of the Sahara, and in
cluding Madagascar and also Arabia, which, geologically, is part of
Africa.

3. The Oriental region, or Asia south of the Himalayas, with
Southern China and the Philippine Islands and Indian Archipelago as
far as the island of Bali.

4. The Australian region, or Australia, New Zealand, the less re
mote Pacific Islands, and those of the Indian Archipelago from New
Guinea up to Lombok.

5. The Neotropical region, or South America, together with tropi
cal North America and the West Indies.

6. The JVearctic region, or temperate North America and Green
land.

Now, the whole group of flying-foxes is strictly confined to the
tropical regions of the Old World and Australia. In the same way
the family of leaf-nosed bats, like those of England the Rhinolophidce
is limited to the Old World, though reaching there much higher
latitudes than do the flying-foxes.

The group to which the vampires belong the Phyllostomidce
is strictly confined to the Neotropical and Nearctic regions ; and the

536 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Neotropical region is not only distinguished as the headquarters of
the Phyttostomidce, but also by being altogether destitute of the fly
ing-foxes and Rhinolophidce.

Such being the relation of bats to space their geographical dis
tribution what are their relations to time their geological distri
bution ?

I assume that my readers are acquainted with the fundamental
facts and laws of geology, and know that the successive layers, of
which the superficial crust of the earth is in very various degrees com
posed, are classifiable into three sets : 1. The Primary or Palaeozoic
rocks ; 2. The Secondary or Mesozoic rocks (from the Trias to the
Chalk inclusively) ; and, lastly, 3. The Tertiary or Cainozoic rocks,
extending upward from the Chalk to the present day.

FIG. 6. FLYING-FOX (Pteropus Whitmeei).

Remains of beasts more or less closely resembling some of those
existing now in Australia are found low down in the secondary rocks,
namely, in the Triassic and Oolitic formations. Generally speaking,
however, beasts such as those which now exist are not found deeper
than the Tertiary strata, and this is the case with bats.

The oldest fossil bat yet known is represented by a few teeth
found in Eocene deposits in Suffolk. The oldest perfect fossil bat is
the Vespertilio Parisiensis of the gypsum-bed of Montmartre, near
Paris.

Some forms of existing beasts, however, which are now distinct
enough, such as the ox and the pig, or the tapir and the horse, were

WHAT ARE BATS?

537

preceded in early Tertiary times by others which were more or less
intermediate in structure. This is not the case as regards bats.
Bats, as soon as they appear at all, appear as thoroughly and as per
fectly organized bats as are those living among us now.

This leads us to speculate upon questions of origin ; but, before so
doing, let us see that we have a clear idea of what a bat is, and can
give a good definition of it.

In order that we may have this clear idea, we must consider for a
few moments zoological classification.

The whole group of animals is fancifully termed the animal king
dom, in contradistinction to the world of plants the vegetable
kingdom.

FIG. 7. SKELETON OP FLYING-FOX. SIDE-VIEW OP STERNUM.

This vast mass of animals is subdivided into a number of very
large groups, each of which is a called a sub-kingdom. Thus, we have
the sub-kingdom to which we ourselves belong the vertebrate sub-
kingdom ; the sub-kingdom of insects, etc. ; that of snails, cuttle
fishes, etc., and so on.

Each of these various sub-kingdoms is again divided into certain
subordinate, but still very large groups, each of which is called a
class.

Thus, the sub-kingdom Vertebrata is made up of the class of
man and beasts, that of birds, that of reptiles, that of frogs, toads, and
efts, and that of fishes.

53 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Every class is again subdivided into certain subordinate groups,
termed orders.

Each order is composed of families, each family of genera, and
each genus of its component kinds or " species."

Now, the bat, as already said, belongs to man s own class, possess
ing as it does all the characters which distinguish that class from the
other classes of vertebrate animals.

Man s own class, Mammalia, is divisible into some dozen orders,
and all the bats form one such order (Cheiroptera) , into which no
animal but a bat is admitted. The characters of this order are the
possession of a truly flying membrane, sustained by very elongated
fingers ; and the bat is capable of being very shortly defined, namely,
as a truly flying mammal.

Bats present no real resemblance whatever to birds, but are, of
course, much more like ourselves (who are their class-fellows) than
they are like any bird.

Similarly, in spite of this analogical relation of bats to those ex
tinct reptiles, the pterodactyls, these creatures have no true affinity.
Pterodactyls are aerial modifications of the Reptilian type, just as
bats are aerial modifications of the Mammalian type. We may say,
in a rough and general way, as pterodactyls are to reptiles, so are
bats to mammals.

Before concluding we may now glance at the question of the gene
sis or origin of bats. To those who accept the doctrine of Evolution
as I myself do there can be no question but that bats did arise by
natural generation from some anterior beasts which were not bats.
But at what period and from what progenitors ? these are questions
which it is quite impossible to answer, at present. As has been said,
there are certain cases in which we may imagine now existing more
highly specialized and differentiated forms were developed from ante
rior less highly specialized and differentiated ones. We may do so,
e. g., as regards the horse and the ox. But we cannot do so as re
gards the bat, because up to the present time no fossil remains what
ever have been found which connect bats with other creatures. More
over, the development of the bat s wing, difficult as it is to conceive
upon any view of evolution, seems to me to be especially difficult as
the mere result of the survival of the fittest, when we consider the
origin of the initial stages of the organ. The nearest existing rela
tives of the bats which are not bats are perhaps the little shrew-mice
belonging to the order Insectivora. Some of these are aquatic ; and
it is conceivable, though there is no fragment of evidence in favor of
it, that some ancestral aquatic form may have developed long fingers
and webs like those of the flying-frog. This speculation does not,
however, commend itself to my mind as a satisfactory one ; and
though, doubtless, could we see all the extinct forms of life which
have existed during the secondary period, we should find some creat-

ON THE FORMATION OF LAKES. 539

ures developing by more or less rapid stages along a definite course
in the direction of the type of structure selected for our consideration
to-day, and, though I am ready to make an act of scientific faith in
the existence of such creatures, I confess my imagination fairly baffled
in its attempts to depict them, or the road which this particular course
of evolution followed. We must wait patiently for more light from
paleontology. But we may wait very hopefully. We may do so
because the wonderfully rich harvest of fossil remains now being
gathered in North America supplies us with good and solid ground
for hope.

Already forms have been discovered there so strange that they
cannot be satisfactorily grouped in any existing order of mammals
forms such as imagination could hardly have anticipated. We may,
then, not unreasonably expect that sooner or later perhaps very soon
fossils deeply buried in the secondai^ rocks will come to light, clearly
pointing out the line which has been followed in the evolution and
development of the only truly flying mammal the bat. Popular Sci
ence Review.

THE FOKMATIOis 1 " OF LAKES.

BY I. C. EUSSELL.

rwas not until the studies of Agassiz, Forbes, and others, among
the Alps of Switzerland, had made us acquainted with the char
acter and action of glaciers, that we could at all understand many of
the most curious and interesting features connected with the forma
tion of the multitude of lakes with which we are more or less familiar,
and which lend so much beauty and grandeur to the scenery of the
world.

As some classification is necessary for the understanding of a
series of facts, we will arrange lakes under four heads : 1. Those filling
glacier-worn rock-basins ; 2. Those confined by banks of sand, gravel,
bowlders, etc., or, in one word, by moraines ; 3. Those formed by a
subsidence of their bottoms, or by the elevation of the country sur
rounding them, commonly by the secular changes of level to which
the crust of our globe is subject ; 4. Lakes filling basins formed by
volcanic action*.

1. Lakes which fill rock-basins are such as are confined on all
sides by the common rock of the country, so that in some cases a
person can walk entirely around them without stepping off the solid
rock; and in all cases they would be found to have a rocky rim
inclosing them, were the superficial material removed. How such
spoon-shaped depressions could be scooped out, was for a long time
an enigma which eluded the search of the most painstaking observers.

540 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

As facts accumulated, however, it was noticed that the sides and bot
toms of such lakes are smoothed, in many cases polished, and almost
always covered with grooves and scratches ; and also that in their
vicinity beds of clay are usually found, intermixed with pebbles and
large bowlders which, like the rocky basins, are also smoothed and
frequently scratched. It was noticed, too, that the rock from which
these bowlders and pebbles had been formed commonly differed from
the rocks in place on the shores of the lakes. Thus, throughout New
York and Ohio, huge bowlders are common, composed of crystalline
rock found in place nowhere nearer than the Canadian Highlands, a
hundred miles to the northward ; while the peculiar native copper
of Northern Michigan is sometimes found mingled with the bowlders
and striated stones of the drift far southward in Ohio.

The problem now was to discover what forces in Nature could
polish and scratch both rock-surfaces and detached stones, and could
also transport masses of rock, tons in weight, far from their native
home.

It is well known that the loose stones and pebbles along the sea
shore are made very smooth and round, and often polished, by the ac
tion of the waves. It might be thought from this that the pebbles
found on the shores of the lakes, and imbedded in the clays, were
fashioned in the same manner. On one occasion, at the Cape of Good
Hope, the writer, after wandering for a time along the sloping sandy
beach of Table Bay, came suddenly to a little rocky cove exposed to
the full swell of the South Atlantic. As each wave broke on the
steep, rocky beach and retreated, it was followed by a sharp, rattling
sound that could be distinctly heard above the roar of the waves ; we
noticed, too, that the stones all along the shore were in motion, rolling
down the beach, only to be caught up by the next white-capped wave
that came in from the ocean, and again carried up the beach, and
rolled and pounded against each other by the untiring waters, that
were fast reducing them to sand and dust. On examining these
water-worn stones, we found them all smoothed and rounded, and
often beautifully polished; but in no case could we discover, even
with a magnifying-glass, any that were scratched, or in any way
marked similarly to the stones which we have so often examined in
the clays and hard-pans that cover so great a portion of our Northern
States. From this fact, and also from watching the action of the
waves on many other coasts, we conclude that the sea tends to
smooth and wear away the stones and rocks along its shores, but has
no power to cover them with grooves and scratches ; and that, instead
of wearing the coast into pockets and basins, it tends only to grind
down the islands and continents to one uniform level.

Again, we have traversed the deep, picturesque valleys of the
southern Alps, where we could see the glaciers glittering on the
mountain-sides far up at the head of the valley, and have noticed as

ON THE FORMATION OF LAKES. 54;

we advanced that the rocks became more and more worn and
rounded ; that in sheltered places, along the sides of the valley, "beds
of thick plastic clay were to be found; and also that the whole valley
was strewed with smoothed and rounded pebbles, together with huge
bowlders, many of which were a hundred tons in weight. These
were often planed off and grooved, precisely like many of the trans
ported stones that are scattered so plentifully over the hills and val
leys of the State of New York ; and like them, too, frequently differed
in the nature of their material from the rocks of the surrounding cliffs.
As we ascended the valley, these peculiarities became more and more
strongly marked ; while around us the hills and knolls had a rounded
and flowing outline, and formed what are known as roches mouton-
nees, the mountain-peaks that towered above were sharp and angu
lar, and stood out against the clear sky like cathedral-spires.

All these facts have such a marked and intimate connection with
the glaciers that still linger on the mountain-side, that no one who
had traversed those valleys, or traced the streams up to the ice-caves,
from which many of them spring, turbid and overloaded with silt, at
the foot of the glaciers could doubt that these valleys, with all their
peculiar features, owe their existence to the great extension of the
glaciers, which in past time flowed from the mountains in great rivers
of ice, and carved out those grand valleys to a depth of many thou
sands of feet in the solid rock. As these ancient glaciers retreated
and melted away, they left the indisputable records of their presence
throughout the valley.

The same connection of rounded and striated bowlders (called
Fundlinge wandering children by the German peasants) with ex
isting glaciers has been observed by Agassiz and others in the Alps
of Switzerland. Not only these facts, but the manner in which the
glaciers flow down the valleys like great rivers of ice, has been close
ly observed and measured ; they have been seen time and again trans
porting immense amounts of dirt and stones on their surface, which in
time formed part of the terminal moraines at their extremity. The
sides and bottoms of the valleys through which they flow are smoothed
and covered with scratches made by the pebbles and stones set in the
bottom and sides of the glacier, which in their turn were rounded and
scratched, often in various directions, caused by their breaking from
their matrix, and being reset in a new position.

If we were to place the rounded and scratched stones from the
drift ("hard-pan," " hog s-backs," etc.) of New York beside the similar
stones broken from their icy fastenings in the bottom of the glacier
of Zermatt, we should find them so similar in their markings that no
eye could distinguish but that they had made the journey under the
glacier side by side.

If we compare the smoothed and striated rocks from the bottoms
and shores of Lake Erie, Cayuga Lake, or almost any of our lakes

542

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

which fill rock-basins, with the rock-surface fresh from under the ice of
the Mer de Glace, we shall find them wonderfully similar in their mark
ings. The characters that are engraved upon them are the same.

"Not only do we find these markings in connection with the present
glaciers, but we find also the rock-basins themselves with the glaciers
yet occupying their upper portions, and still at work grinding down
the rocks. The best example of this kind, perhaps, in the world, is
Lake Wakatipu. in New Zealand, which has a length of seventy
miles, and a depth of 1,400 feet. This lake fills a true rock-basin, and
bears every indication of having been excavated by the glaciers,
which in the past were greatly extended, and have now retreated to
the extreme upper end of the valley, while it has no connection with
synclinal folds or volcanic fractures.

How can we resist the conclusion, then, that these bowlders, these
beds of clay full of smoothed and striated pebbles, and these rock-
basins with their sides covered with inscriptions which we can now
read with ease and accuracy if we take the records made by existing
glaciers, as the Rosetta Stone are all the work of glaciers, since the
same results are produced at the present day by the action of ice,
and by no other agency known ?

A clearer idea of the manner in which a flowing glacier wears out
a rock-basin can be gathered, perhaps, from the accompanying dia
gram, where the rock JK It is shown, over which passes the glacier 6r,

which wears its bottom less at the lower end, not only for the reason
that the ice is continually wasting away, and growing thinner in the
lower portion, but also because the material carried down on the sur
face of the glacier is deposited at its extremity J/", in the form of a
terminal moraine, and thus protects the rock beneath from further
waste. When the ice of the glacier is melted away, and the terminus
retreats up the valley, the basin which it leaves behind it becomes
filled with water (from M to G), and thus forms a lake, which may be
a mere pool across which a school-boy can skip a stone, a great inland
sea like Lake Erie or Lake Ontario, or a mirror of grandeur like Lake
Geneva or Lucerne, in Switzerland, and Lake Wakatipu and Lake
Wanaka, in New Zealand.

ON THE FORMATION OF LAKES. 543

It may be urged that these beds of clay, with their striated stones
and huge bowlders, are found over a large section of our country, and
are not confined to the region of the lakes. This is very true; and
from it we conclude that where now so many happy homes are scat
tered, from Maine to the far West, the snows and frozen mists of a
great winter once accumulated to many thousand feet in thickness,
and formed a great glacier, like that which covers the interior of
Greenland at the present day, which flowed southward, grinding
down the country and acting as a ploughshare to prepare the land for
a new harvest. Gradually this great winter began to pass away, and
the spring-time in which we now live, to draw near. As the great
glacier retreated northward, it left the country covered with beds of
bowlder-clay and strewed with huge erratics from northern regions,
which together with other debris form the surface material of all our
northern country, where it has not since been swept away or covered
by other and more recent deposits. It is often well exposed along
our lines of railroads, and may be known at a glance by the great
number of worn and rounded stones of all sizes that are scattered pro
miscuously through it. These evidences of glacial action are found
as far southward as Cincinnati and the central portion of New Jersey,
showing that here was the border of the icy mantle that was spread
over all the northern regions. After this great continental glacier
passed away, or had retreated far northward, smaller and detached
streams of ice still flowed southward to complete the task of moulding
the valleys and lake-basins. It is to these smaller glaciers that we
attribute the formation of the multitude of lakes filling rock-basins
that are scattered through the northern part of the United States and
over the whole of the British possessions, many of which have been
hollowed out in nearly horizontal beds of rock in the same manner as
lake-basins are now forming under existing glaciers. Nor are the
lakes which fill glacier-worn rock-basins confined to our own continent,
but they form the most common and grandest lakes of temperate lati
tudes, which might be called the lake latitudes, so completely are the
lakes of the world confined to these regions.

The theory of the glacial origin of certain lakes was first proposed
by the distinguished English geologist, Prof. Ramsay, and, after being
tested in nearly every glaciated region in the world, is now held, by
those best qualified to understand it, as the simple and true history
of the formation of many of our lakes.

2. The lakes of our second class, those which are confined by
banks of gravel, bowlders, etc., owe their origin, like the ones we have
been considering, to the action of ice. Lakes of this class are most
commonly found in the deep Alpine valleys of mountainous regions,
where the material which accumulated on the surface of the glaciers
that once flowed through them, in the form of lateral and medial
moraines, was carried down and deposited at the extremity of the

544 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

glacier in what is known as a terminal moraine, which in many cases
stretched completely across the valley and marks the place where the
terminal face of the glacier was stationary for a considerable period
of time before it melted away, and allowed the water to accumulate
in the space once filled by the ice. These glacier-built dams are to
be met with in all countries which have been subjected to glacial
action, and are especially well marked amid the Alps and in Scotland,
where they have been most thoroughly studied, on the Scandinavian
peninsula, in the Northern States of the Union, and amid the southern
Alps of New Zealand. As the bottom of the valley in which such a
lake is formed is usually worn deeper by the action of the glacier
during the formation of the terminal moraine, this second form of
lake-basin is quite often combined with the first.

To this second class also belong the thousands of little lakelets
scattered over the Northern States, which are confined on all sides by
banks of drift-material, and fill nearly every depression and hollow in
the huge banks of glacier-worn debris known as till, Jcaims, esfcers,
etc., scattered so plentifully throughout our Northern country. We
have seen many of these pretty little lakelets through New York,
Ohio, and westward. Near Plainfield, New Jersey, scores may be
passed in a morning s walk. At the latter place they occupy the hol
lows and dells in the drift, which is there of great thickness, and
formed not only from the Triassic sandstone which underlies it, but
also to a large extent from the limestone and gneiss found in place
only in the northern portion of the State. Intermingled with these
are many blocks of the peculiar reddish conglomerate found in situ in
Morris County, which show unmistakably the direction from which
the drift has traveled. Many of these stones are glacier-worn, and
have without doubt been transported from their northern homes by
the agency of ice ; not in one or two isolated instances, but in sufficient
quantity to cover the country for miles in extent. These little lake
lets, becoming filled with vegetable matter, form peat-bogs, which
promise to become of considerable agricultural value in the future ;
these peat-bogs not only contain many wonderful things for the eyes
of those who are fortunate enough to possess a microscope, but also in
them are sometimes found the bones of the huge mastodon, which at
no very distant time inhabited this continent.

3. The formation of lakes by a sinking of their bottoms, although
at first sight seeming to be the simplest and most common mode of
their formation, is really the most unusual. Lake Superior is de
scribed as filling one of these depressions, as the rocks on its shores
are found to dip toward the centre of the lake, and the basin seems to
have been formed by a subsidence at that point, although greatly
modified in after-time by the erosion of the ice during the glacial
period. The valley into which the Jordan empties is another such
region of subsidence.

ON THE FORMATION OF LAKES. 545

No description has been given of the newly-discovered lakes of Cen
tral Africa, sufficiently accurate to decide to which mode of formation
they owe their origin, but, as they are situated in the tropics, it will
probably be found that, like Lake Superior, they fill synclinal valleys.

To this category belong also the truly great lakes which existed
in our Western country during Tertiary times, which in the lapse of
acres became filled with mud and silt, and now form the greater por
tion of the rich Territories of Nebraska, Dakota, etc. In this region
are found, in great numbers, the remains of the huge animals which
lived in these ancient lakes, and fed on the luxuriant tropical vegeta
tion that overhung their banks.

The well-known Salt Lake of Utah is another example of a lake
filling an area of depression, and was of far greater extent in past
time, as is very plainly shown by the lines of ancient terraces which
are so sharply drawn between Ogden and Salt Lake City, nearly a
thousand feet above the present level of the lake.

4. Lakes of the fourth class, such as owe their formation to vol
canic action, are found occupying the bowl-shaped craters of ancient
volcanoes, which, as their fires became extinct, furnished convenient
reservoirs for the accumulation of water, and in this manner sometimes
formed lakes of considerable extent. Streams of lava, also, when
they chance to flow in such a manner as to obstruct the drainage of a
valley, may serve as a dam, above which the waters soon accumulate
and form a lake.

Besides the kinds of lakes which we have enumerated, there are
others, which are of rare occurrence and exceptional in their mode of
formation ; such is the beautiful little lake in Switzerland known as
the Marjelen-See, which is formed by the glacier of the Aletsch block
ing up the mouth of a tributary valley, and thus forming a wall of ice
above which the waters accumulate. This ice-dam breaks away
every few years, and allows the complete and rapid drainage of the
lake, which often causes great inundations of the valley below. In
ancient times a similar ice-dam existed in the valley of Glen Roy,
Scotland, as has been shown by Lyell, which, by damming back the
waters, formed a lake similar to the Marjelen-See. The waves of this
ancient glacial lake chafed and wore its banks, and thus formed
terraces at different levels, in the same manner as we often see the
little ripples on the pools of water by the wayside cut their soft,
muddy banks into terraces, so that, when the water is evaporated by
the heat of the sun, their sides are left in a series of little steps ; in
the same manner, but on a far grander scale, the terraces were formed
which are known as the Parallel Roads of Glen Roy, that have gained
a world-wide fame both in science and story.

In our own country we sometimes find lakes which owe their ex
istence to the industry of the beavers, who often build their dams in
our streams, and sometimes form shallow lakes of considerable extent.
VOL. ix. 35

546 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The lakes to which we have devoted the greatest attention, and
which are at the same time the most common and the most interest
ing, are those which fill glacier-worn rock-basins, to which we hope
that our little article will attract the attention of some one who will
give us more light on these wonderful pictures, now but imperfectly
illuminated.

AMPHIBIOUS FISHES. 1

BY E. SAUVAGE.

IN the swamps of the Gambia, after they have been dried by the
tropical sun, there are to be found here and there beneath the
surface clods of earth uniform in shape, and usually about the size of
a man s two fists. These clods inclose living animals, which have
been led by instinct to hide themselves away toward the close of the
rainy season, and before the coming of the season of drought, by
burying themselves in the mud while it was yet soft, and before it
had been hardened by the scorching rays of the sun.

On breaking one of these lumps of mud, it is found to be a sort
of pouch or cocoon, with thin walls, and with projections here and
there corresponding to the form of the animal concealed within. Its
larger end is rounded, but its narrower end is closed by a slightly
convex lid with a narrow opening in the centre. If the surface of the
cocoon be even gently touched, a pretty loud cry is heard which Nat-
terer has compared to the mewing of a cat.

For a long time it was supposed that the animal buried itself
amid the leaves which surround its protecting sheath. In a special
memoir published in the Bulletins of the St. Petersburg Academy of
Sciences, Leuckart expressed the opinion that the epidermis, by be
coming detached, supplied the materials for this envelope. But since
his time it has been demonstrated that the cocoon is formed from a
dense secretion of mucus ; such is the result of observations made by
Paulson and Richard Owen, and repeated by Auguste Dumeril, Pro
fessor of Ichthyology at the Museum. He has himself witnessed the
formation of the cocoon, and his description of the process we repeat
here in his own words. He says :

" Two protopteri, that had been restored to freedom by the gradual soften
ing, of the clods in which they had been inclosed, evinced signs, after living for
a month in an aquarium, that the time had come for them to seek, in the soft
earth covered by the water, the shelter which they require during the dry season.
Their restlessness, their abundant secretion of mucus, their attempts at burrow
ing, all showed an irresistible desire to find a medium different from that in
which they then lived.

1 Translated from the French, by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

AMPHIBIOUS FISHES.

547

" I therefore took pains to surround them with conditions analogous to those
they meet with when, after the water has retreated, the soil first becomes dry,
and then hardens. The water in the aquarium was drawn off little by little as
soon as the animals had burrowed into the mud. Three weeks had scarcely
passed, and already the hardened earth showed a number of cracks ; through
these a small quantity of air is admitted, which supports respiration.

" On the seventieth day I examined the earth, and found that the two ani
mals had met with such conditions as enabled them successfully to live through
the artificially-produced dry season : they were enveloped in cocoons, and were
full of life, as was shown by their motion on being touched ever so lightly.

S4 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

" Thus the cocoon is a protecting sheath formed of the mucous secretion.
The abundant secretion of mucus, in the first place, coats and strengthens the
walls of the burrow made by the protopterus, and hence the subterraneous
canal which it had excavated had its sides smooth, and as it were polished.
Then, after the animal has reached the required depth, the secretion becomes
still more abundant, and the mucus dries, forming a membranaceous envelope
of remarkable structure."

The animal doubles itself up in its envelope, the tail being brought
up in front of the head ; the mouth is free, and through it passes the
air needed for respiration, which, of course, is exclusively pulmonary,
owing to the conditions in which the animal lives. In fact, the pro
topterus is able to respire in two ways, viz., either directly in the
atmosphere, or indirectly by separating dissolved oxygen from water
by means of its gills.

The external openings to the latter are two small apertures, one
on each side of the neck. Each of these gives access to a chamber
of moderate capacity, in which are floating certain filamentous ap
pendages. On these are distributed the blood-vessels, which consti
tute but ill-developed tufts. In water, the animal respires by means
of these ; when it lives in its burrow, it respires by means of its lung.

Most fishes have, beneath the vertebral column, a sort of capsule,
which seems to act the part of a floating apparatus. By means of
this, the fish can rise in the water or descend at pleasure; it is known
as the air-bladder. The sounds emitted by certain fishes, Triglce, for
example, are caused by vibrations communicated to the gases in this
organ.

In the protopterus the air-bladder discharges the physiological
functions of a lung when the animal can no longer respire through
the gills. To attain this end, it divides up into a number of little
cellular lobes, over the walls of which are spread a multitude of
blood-vessels, containing blood to be oxygenated, though it is only
partially venous. To prevent mixture of the two kinds of blood,
that which has respired the oxygen and that which has discharged
its physiological function, the auricle becomes divided in two by a
partition. The left chamber receives the red blood, just as in the
higher animals. A muscular frcenum, or fold, forming a sort of rudi
mentary septum, rises from the floor of the ventricle ; this frcenum
acts as a piston, preventing the return of the blood into the vessels
by contracting when the heart contracts.

The air enters either through the mouth or through the nostrils,
which debouch near the posterior margin of the upper lip ; thence it
passes into a trachea, which traverses the wall of the oesophagus ;
finally, having entered a sort of membranous sac, through two large
openings, it reaches the lungs, whereof there are two, and which are
like the lungs of serpents.

These singular animals, being, as we have said, truly amphibious,

AMPHIBIOUS FISHES. 549

have received from naturalists the expressive came of Dipnoi^ a term
formed from two Greek words, meaning animals with twofold respi
ration.

Two genera, each comprising only one species, make up this sub
class Dipnoi. Gambia, Zanzibar, Senegal, the region of the White
Nile, and the Niger, are the native haunts of the African species, the
Protopterus annectens, or anguilliformis the other species, Lepido
siren paradoxa, is found in the valley of the Amazon as.

The latter species is but ill represented in collections ; there are
in Europe only a very few specimens. According to Mr. Bates, the
natives call it zanibaki niboya this naturalist says that the Lepido-
siren has even penetrated to the great lakes in the vicinity of the
Tapajos and the Madeira. M. de Castelnau has caught this animal
in a marsh on the left bank of the Amazonas, above Villanova, at a
place called Caracauca.

In Lepidosiren the tail is pointed ; the pectoral and ventral fins,
which stand far apart, are not long, and consist of a single ray, not
divided into segments. The general form is that of an eel, with two
threads hanging on each side. In color the animal is dark brown-
gray, or olive, with round spots of lighter color, about the size of the
scales, and indistinct on the head and the middle of the back. The
species appears to grow to the length of about one metre.

The protopterus, or African representative of the group, is olive-
green in color, this tint being varied with a number of irregular
brown or blackish spots. The lower portions are violet. The young
are marked with fine lines of light color, which cross each other,
forming a regular network. The extremity of the tail is tapering.
The pectoral and ventral fins are long, and consist of one ray made
up of jointed segments. The bones of the skeleton are of a green
hue.

For our first acquaintance with these animals we are indebted to
the naturalist Natterer, who, during his visit to Brazil, obtained two
specimens, which he placed in the Vienna Museum. For a long time
the Protopterus and Lepidosiren were classed with those batrachians
in which the tail persists, as in the axolotl. Later they were consid
ered as forming a sort of intermediate class between reptiles and
fishes, and as forming the connecting link between the two. At
present naturalists class Lepidosiren and Protopterus among fishes.

The Dipnoi are not the only class of animals that bury themselves
in the dried-up mud after the water has been evaporated by the heat
of summer. There is another fish that does the same the mud-fish
(Amia), which is found in the fresh waters of the United States. The
Amia, too, is indisputably &fish. There appears to exist some rela
tion between this animal s mode of life and the cellular structure of
its air-bladder. Still, the Amia is not an amphibian, in the strict
sense of the term. For, though its air-bladder resembles the lung of

55 c THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the serpent, it certainly receives only blood that has previously been
aerated; hence we find in this animal no true aerial respiration alter
nating with strictly aquatic respiration.

But, though the Amia is not amphibious, and hence not to be con
sidered in this place, nevertheless we must not omit to mention the
fact that, while at present the genus is restricted within rather narrow
geographical limits, it appears to have existed in Europe during the
epoch known to geologists as the Middle Tertiary.

Thus there have been found at Oeningen (Switzerland), Kutschlin
(Bohemia), Menat and Armissan (France), fossil remains of Cydurus,
which has a close affinity with Amia. It is highly probable, not to
say certain, that these fishes buried themselves in the mud during the
dry season. The little tertiary lakes of Limagne appear to have
undergone in past times alternations of drought and humidity, like
the marshes of tropical and inter-tropical countries.

The presence in Europe of a genus closely allied to the Amia of
America would seem to show that, at a relatively late period, these
two divisions of the world we re connected. The study of tertiary
insects, to which E. Oustalet has devoted himself, and a thorough
investigation of fossil fishes, would, we think, tend greatly to confirm
Oswald Heer s hypothesis, according to which an Atlantis not an
historical Atlantis, as understood by Plato, but a geological Atlantis
connected the north of Europe with America toward the close of
the great Tertiary epoch.

INDUSTRIAL APPLICATIONS OF SOLAR HEAT. 1

BY L. SIMONIN.

rriHE history of burning-mirrors of brass is known. At Rome the
-L sacred fire was lighted with apparatus of this kind, and Archi
medes fired the ships which were blockading Syracuse by concentrat
ing upon them the sun s rays by means of a large reflector. Buffon
repeated successfully the experiments of Archimedes. With a mirror
of very slight curvature, consisting of a number of pieces of looking-
glass, he set fire, at some distance, to fir and beech planks, melted tin
and silver, and brought iron to a red heat. Saussure later accumu
lated, by means of superimposed inclosures of glass, the sun s heat up
to a temperature exceeding that of boiling water, and Sir John Her-
schel repeated these experiments at the Cape of Good Hope at various
times between 1834 and 1838. At the same period the French physi
cist Pouillet was engaged at Paris in measuring the calorific intensity
of solar radiation, arriving at the conclusion that the heat emitted

1 Translated from the French, by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

INDUSTRIAL APPLICATIONS OF SOLAR HEAT. 551

from the sun and poured down upon the earth in one year would suf
fice to melt a sheet of ice thirty metres thick, and enveloping the
entire globe.

About the year 1860, M. Mouchot, then Professor of Mathematics
in the Lyce*e of Alen9on, being stimulated by the researches of Pouillet
as well as by those of Melloni, the ablest of Italian physicists, who
has made experiments of incomparable precision upon the transmis
sion of heat, boldly attacked the question of the utilization of the
sun s heat. The mechanical equivalent of heat had at length been
determined. Thanks to Melloni, we already knew the quantity of
caloric which different bodies, as glass, when reduced to thin laminae,
suffer to pass through, as also the difference in the reflecting power
of polished metallic surfaces according to the nature of the metals,
employed. But to measure the amount of vis viva transmitted daily
from the sun to the earth, and, more Utopian still, to concentrate, at
little cost, the sun s rays, so as to realize all the effects of which they
are capable, were objects the attainment of which was henceforth in
sured, though Buffon and Saussure had failed, owing to the insuffi
ciency of the data at their command. The question is now merely a
matter of calculation, an application of well-known physical laws.

In order to concentrate to any useful purpose the sun s rays, there
was need of a receiver which should be of moderate size and reasona
ble cost. After sundry attempts, one of which was with an apparatus
resembling that of Saussure, Mouchot contrived a vertical boiler of
copper, blackened on the outside, covered with three concentric bell-
glasses, and resting on some bad conductor of heat, as sand, brick, or
wood. Soon he increased the power of his apparatus by the addition
of a metallic reflector, which enabled him to dispense with two of the
three bell-glasses. With this apparatus he considerably raised the
temperature of the water in the boiler, reduced it to vapor, melted
sulphur, the liquefaction temperature of which is 116 C., and after
twenty minutes of insolation brought the empty boiler up to the tem
perature of 200 C.

With this reflector a few seconds suffice to set on fire a heap of
shavings or a piece of board. In a glass vessel placed at the focus
of the reflector and inclosed in another vessel of glass, one kilogramme
of tin has been melted in two minutes ; the same quantity of lead took
five minutes, and of zinc, six. The fusion-point of these three metals
is 235, 335, and 475 C. respectively. With spherical or parabolic
mirrors, whose focus is a point, and not a line, as in the conical or
cylindrical mirrors employed in the foregoing experiments, the con
centration of solar heat would have been still stronger.

While engaged in these investigations, the ingenious experimenter
brought out his Marmite Solaire, a cylindrical glass vessel, in which
is placed another cylinder of copper or of wrought-iron blackened on
the outside, and resting on the bottom of the glass receiver. The

552 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

whole is covered with a glass lid. A cylindrical reflector of silver
directs the sun s rays upon the apparatus. With this marmite it
takes less than four hours to prepare an excellent pot-au-feu, consist
ing of one kilogramme of beef and a quantity of vegetables, the whole
being perfectly cooked, and very palatable, owing to the fact of the
heat being applied with great regularity.

In this form of marmite, now superseded by a simple glass vessel
fixed at the focus of a conical mirror of silver-plated brass, fruits,
pot-atoes, all sorts of legumes, meats, and grains, are cooked by solar
heat. So, too, an infusion of tea or coffee can be readily prepared, and
for this purpose we may employ one of those bottles of colored glass
in which Lyons beer is put up. To cook legumes or grains rapidly, a
different course may be taken. A closed vessel containing water is
set in the focus of the reflector, and, when the liquid begins to boil,
the upper portion of the vessel is connected by a tube with the bot
tom of another containing the legumes or grains, which are quickly
cooked by the steam.

To transform the marmite into an oven, a disk of wrought-iron is
placed beneath the glass lid, and in less than three hours a kilogramme
of bread is baked. The crust is hard and brown, and the pith light
and well raised, as with bread baked in an ordinary oven.

The roasting of meat, not requiring the same amount of heat as
does the vaporization of an equal weight of water, can be performed
in the open air, by the action of the solar reflector alone, the piece of
beef, veal, or mutton being fixed upon a spit. In less than an hour we
have in this way a very fine roast. The use of butter must be avoided,
lest the chemical rays, by transforming the butter into butyric acid,
should spoil the flavor of the meat. By interposing a pane of green
or red glass we can intercept the chemical rays which cause this fer
mentation, and then the result leaves nothing to be desired.

By substituting for the two lids of the solar marmite an alembic-
head, the apparatus can be used for the purposes of distillation. To
this end the alembic-head is connected, by an horizontal tube, with a
worm, the latter descending in the form of a helix and dipping into a
constant current of cold water, while the metallic vessel, containing
two litres of wine, is inclosed in the glass cylinder and set in the
focus of the reflector. The alcohol is collected after forty minutes
of exposure to the sun. Inasmuch as the apparatus grows hot slowly
and continuously, the alcohol is highly concentrated and possesses a
very agreeable aroma.

In all the foregoing experiments, M. Mouchot at first used concave
silver mirrors, cylindro-parabolic in form, i. e., cylindrical mirrors whose
base-line is an open curve resembling a parabola. The reflecting
power of cylindrical mirrors increases in proportion to their aperture,
and hence the time required, for instance, to boil a litre of water is
inversely as the aperture of the mirror, i. e., the greater the aperture

INDUSTRIAL APPLICATIONS OF SOLAR HEAT. 553

the shorter the time. But later the inventor has employed only coni
cal mirrors, and in these the insolation surface is quadrupled when the
diameter of the mirror is doubled.

Mouchot s researches did not end here. He proposed further to
obtain mechanical effects with solar heat, and in the beginning of
August, 1866, he put in operation at Paris the first machine of this
kind.

In the mean time Ericsson was studying these same problems,
without knowing anything about Mouchot s experiments. Starting
from the facts collected by Herschel and Pouillet, Ericsson, in the
first place, estimated the action of the sun upon a surface of nine
square metres to be sufficient to vaporize eight litres of water ; con
sequently it would be equal to one horse-power. From these premises
he deduces striking consequences, as, for instance, that the solar heat
falling on the roofs of Philadelphia alone would suffice to drive 5,000
steam-engines of twenty horse-power each. Then, having demon
strated that upon one square mile, using only one-half of the surface
and devoting the remainder to buildings, roads, etc., we can drive
64,800 steam-engines, each of a hundred horse-power, simply by the
heat radiating from the sun, he adds these remarkable words : " Archi
medes, having completed his calculation of the force of a lever, said
that he could move the earth ; I affirm that the concentration of the
heat radiated by the sun would produce a force capable of stopping
the earth in its course." Again : " In England they are beginning to
calculate the time when the coal will give out, though coal-mines are,
so to speak, of recent exploitation. A few thousands of years drops
in the ocean of time will exhaust the coal-mines of Europe, unless,
meanwhile, recourse is had to the aid of the sun. True, the sun s
beams do not every day reach the surface of the earth; but, when the
great magazine is opened which shall supply heat gratuitously with
out cost of transportation, the prudent engineer will know how to pro
vide a reserve against cloudy days. At the same time we would observe
that a large proportion of the earth s surface is illumined by an ever-
radiant sun. The solar engine s sphere of activity is as great as its
dynamic power is considerable." Mr. Ericsson, who, besides genius,
possesses wealth and a long experience, will doubtless some day take
up again his studies upon the mechanical application of solar he"at.
Meanwhile, we must state what has been done in this direction by a
Frenchman.

The traveler who visits the library of Tours sees in the court-yard
in front a strange-looking apparatus. Imagine an immense truncated
cone, a mammoth lamp-shade, with its concavity directed skyward.
This apparatus is of copper, coated on the inside with a very thin sil
ver-leaf. On the small base of the truncated cone rests a copper cyl
inder, blackened on the outside, its vertical axis being identical with
that of the cone. This cylinder, surrounded as it were by a great

554 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

collar, terminates above in a hemispherical cap, so that it looks like an
enormous thimble, and is covered with a bell-glass of the same shape.

This curious apparatus is nothing else but a solar receiver, or, in
other words, a boiler, in which water is made to boil by the heat-rays
of the sun. This steam-generator is designed to raise water to the
boiling-point and beyond, by means of the solar rays, which are
thrown upon the cylinder by the silvered inner surface of the conical
reflector. The boiler receives water up to two-thirds of its capacity
through a feed-pipe. A glass tube and a steam-gauge communicating
with the inside of the generator, and attached to the outside of the
reflector, indicate both the level of the water and the pressure of the
steam. Finally, there is a safety-valve to let off the steam when the
pressure is greater than is desired. Thus the engine offers all desirable
safety, and may be provided with all the accessories of a steam-boiler.

The reflector, which is the main portion of the generator, has a
diameter of 2.60 metres at its large, and one metre at its small base,
and is eighty centimetres in height, giving four square metres of re
flecting surface, or of insolation. The interior Avails are lined with
burnished silver, because that metal is the best reflector of the heat-
rays ; still brass with a light coating of silver would also serve the
purpose. The inclination of the walls of the apparatus to its axis
measures 45. Even the ancients were aware that this is the best
form for this kind of metallic mirrors with linear focus, inasmuch as
the incident rays parallel to the axis are reflected perpendicularly to
the same, and thus give a focus of maximum intensity.

The boiler is of copper, which of all the common metals is the best
conductor of heat ; it is blackened on the outside, because black pos
sesses the property of absorbing all the heat-rays, just as white reflects
them ; and it is inclosed in a glass envelope, glass being the most
diathermanous of all bodies that is to say, the most permeable by
the rays of luminous heat. Glass further possesses the property of
resisting the exit of these same rays after they have been transformed
into dark rays on the blackened surface of the boiler. None of these
applications of physical laws present any novelty ; people reduced
them to practice instinctively, as it were, before men of science could
assign the reasons. Here the arts of cookery and of gardening, and
the processes for warming our rooms, did not wait for the experiments
of the physicist. Saussure himself started from these data in his
researches ; but the inventor needed the discoveries of modern physics
in order to give to these applications a rigorous formula.

The boiler proper of the Tours solar engine consists of two con
centric bells of copper, the larger one, which alone is visible, having
the same height as the mirror, i. e., eighty centimetres, and the smaller
or inner one fifty centimetres ; their respective diameters are twenty-
eight and twenty-two centimetres. The thickness of the metal is
only three millimetres. The feed-water lies between the two enve-

INDUSTRIAL APPLICATIONS OF SOLAR HEAT. 555

lopes, forming an annular envelope three centimetres in thickness.
Thus the volume of liquid is twenty litres, and the steam-chamber
has a capacity of ten litres. The inner envelope is empty. Into it
pass the steam-pipe and the feed-pipe of the boiler. To the steam-
pipe are attached the gauge and the safety-valve. The bell-glass
covering the boiler is eighty-five centimetres high, forty centimetres
in diameter, and five millimetres in thickness. There is everywhere
a space of five centimetres between its walls and those of the boiler,
and this space is filled with a layer of very hot air.

The earth, owing to its diurnal and annual revolution, does not
occupy the same position with regard to the sun at all hours of the
day, or in all seasons of the year. This being the case, the generator
is so contrived as to revolve 15, or one twenty-fourth of its circum
ference, hourly around an axis parallel to the earth s axis, i. e., so as
to follow the apparent diurnal motion of the sun, and to incline
gradually on this axis in proportion to the solar declination. Hence
the intensity of the utilized heat is always nearly the same, whatever
the hour of the day or the season of the year, inasmuch as the appa
ratus is always so arranged as to reflect with the least possible loss all
the rays emitted by the sun. This double motion of the generator is
effected by a very simple contrivance.

The generator just described is the one which M. Mouchot was
enabled three years and a half ago to set up at Tours, the Conseil
General of Indre-et-Loire having provided the funds. It has yielded
curious results, some of which are worthy of being recorded here,
though before long they will be surpassed, when some improvements
have been made in the apparatus. On May 8, 1875, the weather be
ing fine, twenty litres of water at 20 C. temperature was introduced
into the boiler at 8.80 A. M., and took only forty minutes to produce
steam with a pressure of two atmospheres ; in other words, a tempera
ture of 121 C. was obtained, which is 21 centigrade degrees above
boiling-point. This steam then quickly acquired a pressure of five atmos
pheres. This was the safety limit of the strength of the apparatus : if
the process had been carried any further the boiler would have explod
ed. Toward noon on the same day, with fifteen litres of water in the
boiler, steam at 100 C., i. e., a pressure of one atmosphere, was raised
in less than fifteen minutes to five atmospheres a temperature of 153
C. Finally, on July 22d, about one hour after mid-day, the heat being
exceptionally great, the apparatus reduced to vapor five litres of
water per hour, which is equal to one hundred and forty litres of
steam per minute, or half a horse-power. 1

1 A maker of instruments of precision, J. Salleron, who constructed the solar appa
ratus which was presented to the Institut last year, lately wrote to me as follows : " I
have driven a small model steam-engine, with the steam generated in the boiler of this
new generator, and M. Noel, Professor of Physics in the Vendome Lycee, put the same
engine in operation on January 5th last. The water began to boil after twenty-eight
minutes, the hour being noon, and the temperature of the surrounding air near C."

556 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A steam-engine consists of two principal parts, the boiler and the
engine proper, or motor. We suppose that with the boiler employed
at Tours we can use the common motors ; this is one of the advantages
possessed by the solar apparatus, viz., that it does not require a special
form of motor. At first the inventor employed for his demonstrations
a double-acting engine, without either condensation or detention of
steam, the cylinder of which had a capacity of one-third of a litre.
This engine performed eighty strokes per minute, with a steady press
ure of one atmosphere ; it continued to work even under a slightly-
clouded sun. This was later superseded by a rotary engine, that is,
an engine with revolving cylinder, which avoids all transmission of
movement ; but the system is faulty. Yet this engine worked very
well, driving at high velocity a little pump for raising water ; the
pump, however, being of weak construction, became disabled. It is
a pity that the inventor has never measured the real work performed
by his engine, by means of a dynamometer.

The solar reflector, being first of all a furnace using fuel that costs
nothing, is not only of use as a means of developing motive force,
but can also be employed for a multitude of purposes for instance,
distilling water to make it fit for drinking, concentrating and crystal
lizing saline solutions, preparing alcohol, etc. Five litres of wine can
be distilled in a quarter of an hour by passing the vapor from the
apparatus into a still. The manufacture of alcohol from grain, sugar
cane, or beet-root, would be equally easy. The steam generated by
this apparatus can also be employed for cooking fodder for cattle.
M. Mouchot has devised a form of small marmites, quite different
from his large steam-generator. These can be used by hunters for
preparing their meals, and explorers of great deserts will now have
something besides camel or buffalo chips for cooking their victuals.

Many and varied are the uses of this curious invention. The aero
naut can with its aid propel his air-ship. Hot-air motors and ammo
nia engines will be benefited by the use of the solar receiver ; but it
is especially in tropical countries that it is destined to find immediate
employment, in driving the various kinds of machinery used in sugar
and cotton plantations, in distilling impure water to make it fit for
drinking, in crystallizing saline and saccharine solutions, in pumping
water of irrigation, in manufacturing ice by means of the Carre ma
chine, etc. In those. countries fuel is scarce, firewood is not abundant,
and coal, which has to be imported from a distance, often from the
mines of England, commands an exorbitant price. Already in south
ern countries sea-salt is obtained purely by the action of solar heat.
In Chili and in Mauritius, salt-marshes are divided into compartments,
with walls and roof of glass, in order to promote evaporation ; so in
the famous nitre-beds of Iquique, on the coast of Peru, the salt might
be crystallized by solar heat alone.

The cost of a solar apparatus of half a horse-power, like that

INDUSTRIAL APPLICATIONS OF SOLAR HEAT. 557

at Tours, does not exceed fifteen hundred francs, and, when the manu
facture is carried on upon a large scale, will he much less. By sub
stituting for the silver plate, which is the most costly portion of the
reflector, brass with a thin coat of silver, which will serve the pur
pose equally well, a considerable reduction of cost is effected.

As the insolation surface, and consequently the power of the ap
paratus, is quadrupled when the diameter of the mirror is doubled, it
will be easy to construct large generators without adding very much
to the cost or complicating the mechanism. The one thing to be
avoided in this case will be too great intensity of heat. It cannot be
objected that the conical reflector takes up too much room, for a com
mon steam-engine occupies considerable space likewise with its long
boilers and its high chimney ; as for the motor, properly so called,
and the contrivances for transmitting the power, they are the same in
both cases.

The strongest winds, at least in our latitudes, have no action on
the reflection of the solar heat, or upon the mirror itself, which is not
shaken by them. This is an important point, for this is an apparatus
which must always be exposed in the open air. In regions where the
wind-storms are more severe than they are here, the reflector might
be staid and strengthened with iron ribs, so as to resist the most
violent cyclones. It has been demonstrated that the bell-glass, even
when highly heated by the direct radiation from the boiler, is in no
danger of breaking, even when a cold rain falls upon it, and that it
is even proof against hailstones; and now that a process has been
invented for tempering glass and making it almost unbreakable, we
can without difficulty obtain bell-glasses strong enough for any emer
gency.

Experience will hereafter lead to many improvements now un-
thought of; but even as it stands to-day the solar engine at Tours is
ready to pass from the speculations of theory to the application of
practice. It is neither over-costly, nor difficult to set up, nor so com
plicated as to require great skill in managing it ; and, from whatever
point of view we regard it, it meets and overcomes all objections.
We may say that it lends itself to every industrial use in which solar
heat can be employed, especially in tropical countries where the ab
sence of all kinds of fuel for industrial uses is severely felt. In the
not distant future, in other countries, too, there will exist no other fuel
than the sun, no other engines than those driven by solar heat. By that
time no doubt the means of storing up this heat will have been dis
covered, for in our latitudes we shall have to make provision against
cloudy days and seasons of rain, which unfortunately constitute the
major part of the year.

It may appear to be a pleasant paradox to say that future genera
tions, after the coal-mines have been exhausted, will have recourse to the
sun for the heat and energy needed in manufacture and in domestic

558 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

economy. Still, nothing could be plainer than this. In our day,
when it is probable that force, motion, gravity, heat, light, electricity,
magnetism, are simply modifications of one and the same agent, and
the effect of the vibrations of that impalpable and invisible fluid known
as ether, the assertion that the sun is the only fuel, the only force,
must not call forth any where the smile of incredulity. All fuels, all
forces, are to be regarded as only parts of the sun s heat. What is
coal ? Fossil carbon. And was not this carbon fixed in plants by the
sun s heat, of which it is the equivalent ? Under the action of solar
radiations the carbonic acid in the atmosphere is decomposed on con
tact with plants ; the carbon is fixed in the plant, and the oxygen
goes back into the air to serve for the respiration of animals. Hence,
no sun, no vegetation ; no vegetation, no carbon ; no carbon, no coal.
Coal, in burning, gives up the solar heat which was stored up in it,
and therefore it was that, on seeing a locomotive engine move, Ste-
phenson said : " It is not the coal that drives this engine, it is the sun s
heat stored up in the coal thousands of ages ago; locomotives are but
the horses of the sun." We might make a like comparison with re
spect to wine and the alcohol it contains ; and the Bordelais use no
mere figure of speech when they speak of their admirable Sauterne
wine as being " bottled sunshine."

When water rises in the shape of vapor, what is it that causes it
to ascend ? The heat of the sun. If it comes down as rain, forming
torrents and brooks which feed our mill-races and drive our mills,
what is it that turns the wheel ? The sun, for it was the sun that in
the first place raised the water. When the wind blows upon the
sails of a windmill, or on the sails of a ship, what is it that drives the
mill or propels the ship? The sun, for wind is simply an atmospheric
current produced by the heating of a stratum of air which, being
dilated by the sun, tends to an equilibrium with strata of the same
density, and hence rises, while a volume of cooler air takes its place.
And what are the tides, the propulsive power of which there is some
thought of utilizing, whether directly by means of water-wheels, or
indirectly by compressing air and so producing a constant supply of
force ? They are a portion of the heat of the sun, for the seas are
formed by the coming together of all those torrents and rivers which
descend into their common reservoir, the ocean. Then, too, the tides
are the result of the combined attraction of sun and moon upon the
earth. Thus we find that the sun is always and everywhere active.

It is, therefore, no paradox to regard the sun as the one source of
fuel in the future, and as the reservoir of force to which generations
to come will at no distant day have recourse. Hence it is that savants
and great engineers, as Euclid, Archimedes, Hero, Salomon de Caus,
Buffon, Sa-ussure, Belidor, Evans, Herschel, Pouillet, Ericsson, have in
every age put to themselves the question how it might be possible to
take from the sun a part of its heat for the benefit of this poor globe.

INDUSTRIAL APPLICATIONS OF SOLAR HEAT. 559

The world will not perish for want of coal, yet the coal-supply
will fail, and that much sooner than Ericsson estimated, for the pro
duction doubles every ten or fifteen years. It will not take thousands
of years to exhaust the European coal-mines, but only hundreds, and
not very many hundreds either. In England, as appears from recent
calculations, the supply will have been consumed in two or three cen
turies at the farthest. Belgium, Germany, France, and the other
countries of Europe, are no better off. The United States of America
and the north of China have coal enough to last for one thousand
years, and that is all. We must then have recourse to the sun.

It will perhaps be said, " There is electricity." Electricity, as a
mechanical agent, is too costly; to produce electricity we have to
consume copper, zinc, and acids. Now, one kilogramme of copper, zinc,
or acid represents several kilogrammes of coal expended in procuring
it. In reducing copper-ore according to the Welch method, sixteen kilo
grammes of coal is consumed for each kilogramme of copper obtained.
Hence it were reasoning in a vicious circle to suppose that electrical
or electro-magnetic machines can usefully or economically take the
place of steam-engines. There is only one case in which this conclu
sion would be weakened ; namely, if with a thermo-electric pile we
should succeed in decomposing water into its elements, oxygen and
hydrogen, at little or no expense. The problem would then be solved,
for this would place in the hands of all the two greatest sources of
light, heat, and force oxygen and hydrogen. But, even then, to what
should we owe this unexpected solution ? To the sun, for it is only by
the aid of a thermo-electric pile (wherein we suppose electricity to be
produced by solar heat) that we could economically decompose oxygen
and hydrogen ; else it would require at least as much heat to disso
ciate them as they would yield on recombining a petitio principii
overlooked by those simple inventors who persist in attempting, by
means of ordinary electric piles, to solve the great problem of eco
nomical motors and the fuel of the future.

As for directly storing up solar heat in good conductors or absorb
ents of heat which are then to be insulated for instance, receiving
the heat in porous black stones which are first exposed to the sun and
afterward thrown into a great reservoir, just as snow is piled up in
the ice-house it involves no impossibility. These stones could be
thrown into water, if needs were, and in this way we might easily
attain or surpass the temperature of boiling water.

Straw, sawdust, wool, feathers, confined air, are insulating sub
stances which retain heat. We might surround with a double en
velope of this kind the reservoir holding the sun-heated stones, and in
this way .we might have our store of solar heat, as now we have our
store of ice. It is one problem whether we have to retain cold or to
retain heat. Now, ice keeps very well even when stowed in the hold
of a vessel ; a little sawdust and careful stowage do the whole work.

560 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The same means will serve in storing solar heat, and, if need he, ship
ping it to a distance. We have barely outlined the idea, but certain
we are that at the proper time the scientific man will appear who shall
discover a practical method of doing this.

The sun, as it would appear, will be the fuel of the future, and one
might say that this was foreseen by the great encyclopaedic scholar
of the middle ages, Dante, when in his incomparable poem he said,
" Gruarda il color del sol che si fa vino " " Look at the sun s heat
which changes into wine" as though he meant to say, into all that
is force, all that is life, all that is light. Revue des Deux Mondes.

THE EEYIYED THEOKY OF PHLOGISTON.

BY WILLIAM ODLING, M. B., F. R. S.

FULLERIAN PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY, ROYAL INSTITUTION.

r!781- 83, Cavendish showed that when inflammable air or hydro
gen, and dephlogisticated air or oxygen, are exploded together
in certain proportions, " almost the whole of the inflammable and
dephlogisticated air is converted into pure water," or, as he elsewhere
expresses it, "is turned into water."

On June 24, 1783, the experiment of Cavendish was repeated on a
larger scale and in a somewhat different form by Lavoisier, who not
only confirmed the synthesis of the English chemist, but drew from it
the conclusion at first strongly contested, then rapidly acknowledged,
and since never called into question "that water consists of inflam
mable air united to dephlogisticated air," or that it is a compound of
hydrogen and oxygen.

This conclusion, so opposite to his own preconception on the
matter, Lavoisier subsequently confirmed by an analysis of water.
He found that iron, heated to redness and exposed to the action of
water-vapor, became changed, by an abstraction of oxygen from the
water, into the self-same oxide of iron procurable by burning the metal
in oxygen gas the other constituent of the water, namely, its hydro
gen, being freely liberated.

With the demonstration by Lavoisier of the composition of water
began the triumph of that antiphlogistic theory which he had con
ceived, in a necessarily imperfect form, so far back as 1772, or before
the discovery of oxygen, and had brought to completion by the aid of
every successive step in pneumatic chemistry, achieved by himself or
by others.

In 1785, the relationship to one another of hydrogen and water
being then conclusively established, Berthollet declared himself a con
vert to the new theory of combustion put forward by his countryman.

THE REVIVED THEORY OF PHLOGISTON. 561

Fourcroy next gave in his adhesion ; and soon afterward De Morveau,
invited to Paris expressly to be reasoned with by Lavoisier, succumbed
to the reasons set before him. The four chemists then associated
themselves together, and, in spite of a strong though short-lived op
position both in England and Germany, succeeded in obtaining for La
Chimie Fran$aise an all but universal recognition.

The principal articles of the new or antiphlogistic theory of com
bustion propounded by Lavoisier are as follows : That combustible
bodies in burning yield products of various kinds, solid in the case of
phosphorus and the metals, liquid in the case of hydrogen, gaseous in
the case of carbon and sulphur. That in every case the weight of the
products formed by the burning is greater than the weight of the
combustible burned. That the increase of weight is due to an addition
of matter furnished to the combustible by the air in which its burning
takes place. That bodies of which the weights are made up of the
weights of two or more distinct kinds of matter are of necessity com
pound; whereas bodies of which the weights cannot be shown to be
made up of the weights of two or more distinct kinds of matter are in
effect simple or elementary. That, inasmuch as the weights of the
products furnished by the burning of different combustibles are made
up of the weights of the combustible burned and of the oxygen con
sumed in the burning, these products are compound bodies oxides in
fact of the substances burned. That, inasmuch as given weights of
many combustibles, as of hydrogen, sulphur, phosphorus, carbon, and
the metals, are not apparently made up of the weights of two or more
distinct kinds of matter, these particular combustibles are in effect
elementary ; as for the same reason is the oxygen with which in the
act of burning they enter into combination. And, lastly, that com
bustion or burning consists in nothing else than in the union of com
bustible matter, simple or compound, with the empyreal matter, oxygen
the act of union being somehow attended by an evolution of light
and heat. And, except that it would be necessary nowadays to ex
plain how, in certain cases of combustion, the combustible enters into
union not with oxygen, but with some analogue of oxygen, the above
precise statement might equally well have been made by Lavoisier in
1*785, or be made by one of ourselves at the present day.

Lavoisier s theory of combustion being known as the antiphlogistic
theory, the question arises, What was the phlogistic theory to which
it was opposed, and which it succeeded so completely in displacing ?
This phlogistic theory was founded and elaborated at the close of the
seventeenth century by two German physicians, Beccher and Stahl.
Having exercised a scarcely-disputed authority over men s minds
until the notorious defection in 1785, it preserved for some years
longer a resolute though tortuous existence, and was to the last de
fended and approved by our own Priestley and Cavendish who died,
the former in 1804, and the latter in 1810.

TOL. IX. 36

562 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The importance attached to the refutation of this theory may be
judged of from the circumstance that, after the early experiments of
Lavoisier on the composition and decomposition of water had been
successfully repeated by a committee of the French Academy in 1790,
a congratulatory meeting was held in Paris, at which Madame La
voisier, attired as a priestess, burned on an altar Stahl s celebrated
"Fundamenta Chemise Dogmatics et Experimentalis," solemn music
playing a requiem the while. And the sort of estimation in which
the Stahlian doctrines have since been held by chemists is fairly illus
trated by a criticism of Sir J. Herschel, who, speaking of the phlogistic
theory of chemistry, says that it " impeded the progress of the science,
as far as a science of experiment can be impeded by a false theory,
. . . . by involving the subject in a mist of visionary and hypotheti
cal causes in place of the true acting principles." Possibly, however,
this much-abused theory may yet prove to contain an element of per
manent vitality and truth ; anyhow the study of this earliest and most
enduring of chemical theories can never be wholly devoid of interest
to chemists.

To appreciate the merit of the phlogistic theory it is necessary to
bear in mind the period of its announcement. Its originator, Beccher,
was born in 1625, and died a middle-aged but worn-out man in 1682,
a few. years before the publication of the u Principia." His more for
tunate disciple, Stahl, who was born in 1660, and died in 1734, in his
seventy-fifth year, though afforded a possibility of knowing, seems
equally with Beccher to have remained throughout his long career
indifferent to the Newtonian principle that the weight of a body is
proportionate to its quantity of matter that loss of weight implies of
necessity abstraction of matter, and increase of weight addition of
matter. Whether or not the founders of the phlogistic theory con
ceived that change of matter in the way of kind might, equally with
its change in point of quantity, be associated with an alteration in
weight and it must not be forgotten what pains Newton thought it
necessary to take in order to show the contrary certain it is, they
attached very little importance to the changes of weight manifested
by bodies undergoing the metamorphosis of combustion. It might
be that when combustible charcoal was burned the weight of incom
bustible residue was less than the original weight of charcoal it
might be that when combustible lead was burned the weight of in
combustible residue was greater than the original weight of metal
this was far too trifling an unlikeness to stand in the way of the
paramount likeness presented by the two bodies. For the lead and
charcoal had the common property of manifesting the wonderful
energy of fire ; they could alike suffer a loss of light and heat that
is, of phlogiston by the deprivation of which they were alike changed
into greater or less weights of inert incombustible residue.

And not only were these primitive students of the philosophy of

THE REVIVED THEORY OF PHLOGISTON. 563

combustion unconscious of the fact and meaning of the relationship in
weight subsisting between the consuming and the consumed body,
but they were altogether ignorant of the part played by the air in the
phenomena which they so boldly and successfully attempted to ex
plain. Torricelli s invention of the barometer, and Guericke s inven
tion of the air-pump, were both, indeed, made during Beccher s early
boyhood ; but years had to elapse before the consequent idea of the
materiality. of air could be domiciled, as it were, in human understand
ings. And not until more than a century after Torricelli s discovery
of the weight of air not, indeed, until the time of the great pneu
matic chemists, Black, Cavendish, Priestley, and Scheele was it ever
imagined that the aerial state, like the solid or liquid state, was a
state common to many distinct kinds of matter; and that the weight
or substance of a rigid solid might be largely contributed to by the
weight or substance of some constituent having its independent exist
ence in the aerial or gaseous form. The notion that 100 pounds of
smithy-scales might consist of 73 pounds of iron and 27 pounds of a
particular kind of air, and that 100 pounds of marble might consist of
56 pounds of lime and 44 pounds of another kind of air, was a notion
utterly foreign to the older philosophy. Air, it was allowed, might
be rendered mephitic by one kind of contamination, and sulphurous
by another, and* inflammable by a third; it might even be absorbed
in, and so add to the weight of, a porous solid, as water is absorbable
by sand ; but still air was ever indisputably air, essentially alike and
unalterable in its mechanical and chemical oneness. This familiar
conception had to be overcome, and the utterly strange notion of the
largely aerial constitution of solid matter to be established in its stead,
by the early pneumatic chemists, Black, Cavendish, and Bergmann,
before the deficiencies rather than positive errors of the phlogistic
theory could be perceived.

But long ere the foundation of modern chemistry had thus been
laid, in 1756, Ijy Black s discovery of fixed air or carbonic acid as a
constituent of mild alkalies and limestone, those old German doctors,
Beech er and Stahl, though ignorant of the nature of air, and neglectful
of the import of gravity, had yet found something to say about the
chemistry of combustion worthy of being defended a century after
ward by men like Priestley and Cavendish worthy, it is believed, of
being recognized nearly two centuries afterward as the expression of
a fundamental doctrine in chemical and cosmical philosophy. They
pointed out, for example, that the different and seemingly unlike pro
cesses of burning, smouldering, calcining, rusting, and decaying, by
which combustible is changed into incombustible matter, have a com
munity of character; that combustible bodies possess in common a
power or energy capable of being elicited and used, whereas incom
bustible bodies are devoid of any such energy or power ; and, lastly,
that the energy pertaining to combustible bodies is the same in all of

564 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them, and capable of being transferred from the combustible body
which has it to an incombustible body which has it not, rendering the
body that was energetic and combustible inert and incombustible, and
the body that was inert and incombustible energetic and combustible,
and further rendering some particular body combustible over and over
again. That this is a fair representation of the views held by phlo
gistic chemists is readily recognizable by a study of chemical works
written before the outbreak of the antiphlogistic revolution. After
Lavoisier s challenge, the advocates of phlogiston, striving to make it
account for a novel order of facts with which it had little or nothing
to do, were driven to the most incongruous of positions ; for, while
Priestley wrote of inert nitrogen as phlogisticated air, Kirwan and
others regarded inflammable hydrogen as being phlogiston itself in
the isolated state. Very different is the view of phlogiston to be
gathered from the writings of Dr. Watson, for example, who was ap
pointed Professor of Chemistry at Cambridge in 1764, became "Regius
Professor of Divinity in 1771, and Bishop of Llandaff in 1782. This
cultivated divine, indifferent, it is true, to the novel questions by which
in less placid regions men s minds were so deeply stirred, amused the
leisure of his dignified university life by writing scholarly accounts
of the chemistry it had formerly been his province to teach ; and in
the first volume of his well-known " Chemical Essays," published in
1781, the following excellent account of phlogiston is to be found :

" Notwithstanding all that perhaps can be said upon this subject, I am sensi
ble the reader will be still ready to ask, What is phlogiston ? You do not surely
expect that chemistry should be able to present you with a handful of phlogis
ton, separated from an inflammable body; you may just as reasonably demand
a handful of magnetism, gravity, or electricity, to be extracted from a magnetic,
weighty, or electric body. There are powers in Nature which cannot otherwise
become the objects of sense than by the effects they produce ; and of this kind
is phlogiston. But the following experiments will tend to render this perplexed
subject somewhat more clear :

" If you take a piece of sulphur and set it on fire it will burn entirely away,
without leaving any ashes or yielding any soot. During the burning of the
sulphur a copious vapor, powerfully affecting the organs of sight and smell, is
dispersed. Means have been invented for collecting this vapor, and it is found
to be a very strong acid. The acid thus procured from the burning of sulphur
is incapable of being either burned by itself or of contributing toward the sup
port of fire in other bodies ; the sulphur, from which it was procured, was
capable of both : there is a remarkable difference, then, between the acid pro
cured from the sulphur and the sulphur itself. The acid cannot be the only
constituent part of sulphur ; it is evident that something else must have entered
into its composition, by which it was rendered capable of combustion. This
something is, from its most remarkable property, that of rendering a body com
bustible, properly enough denominated the food of fire, the inflammable prin
ciple^ the phlogiston. . . . This inflammable principle or phlogiston is not one
thing in animals, another in vegetables, another in minerals ; it is absolutely the
same in them all. This identity of phlogiston may be proved from a variety

THE REVIVED THEORY OF PHLOGISTON. 565

of decisive experiments ; I will select a few, which may at the same time con
firm what has been advanced concerning the constituent parts of sulphur.

" From the analysis or decomposition of sulphur effected by burning, we
have concluded that the constituent parts of sulphur are two an acid which
may be collected, and an inflammable principle which is dispersed. If the
reader has yet acquired any real taste for chemical truths, he will wish to see this
analysis confirmed by synthesis ; that is, in common language, he will wish to
see sulphur actually made by combining its acid with an inflammable principle.
It seldom happens that chemists can reproduce the original bodies, though
they combine together all the principles into which they have analyzed them ;
in the instance, however, before us, the reproduction of the original substance
will be found complete.

"As the inflammable principle cannot be obtained in a palpable form sepa
rate from all other bodies, the only method by which we can attempt to unite it
with the acid of sulphur must be by presenting to that acid some substance in
which it is contained. Charcoal is such a substance ; and by distilling powdered
charcoal and the acid of sulphur together, we can procure a true yellow sul
phur, in no wise to be distinguished from common sulphur. This sulphur is
formed from the union of the acid with the phlogiston of the charcoal ; and
the charcoal may by this means be so entirely robbed of its phlogiston that it
will be reduced to ashes, as if it had been burned. . . .

"I will in this place, by way of further illustration of the term phlogiston,
add a word or two concerning the necessity of its union with a metallic earth,
in order to constitute a metal. Lead, it has been observed, when melted in a
strong fire, burns away like rotten wood ; all its properties as a metal are de
stroyed, and it is reduced to ashes. If you expose the ashes of lead to a strong
fire they will melt ; but the melted substance will not be a metal, it will be a
yellow or orange-colored glass. If you pound the glass, and mix it with char
coal-dust, or if you mix the ashes of the lead with charcoal-dust, and expose
either mixture to a melting heat, you will obtain, not a glass, but a metal, in
weight, color, consistency, and every other property, the same as lead. The
ashes of lead melted without charcoal become glass ; the ashes of lead melted
with charcoal become a metal. The charcoal, then, must have communicated
something to the ashes of lead, by which they are changed from a glass to a
metal. Charcoal consists of but two things of ashes and of phlogiston ; the
ashes of charcoal, though united with the ashes of lead, would only produce
glass ; it must, therefore, be the other constituent part of charcoal or phlogis
ton which is communicated to the ashes of lead, and by a union with which
the ashes are restored to their metallic form. The ashes of lead can never be
restored to their metallic form without their being united with some matter con
taining phlogiston, and they may be reduced in their metallic form by being united
with any substance containing phlogiston in a proper state, whether that sub
stance be derived from the animal, vegetable, or mineral kingdom ; and thence
we conclude, not only that phlogiston is a necessary part of a metal, but that
phlogiston has an identity belonging to it, from whatever substance in Nature
it be extracted. And this assertion still becomes more general, if we may be
lieve that metallic ashes have been reduced to their metallic form, both by the
solar rays and the electrical fire."

The foregoing account by Dr. Watson is almost a translation from
Stahl s " Zymotechnica Fundamentalis, sinmlque experimentum no-

5 66 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

vum sulphur verum arte producendi," in which he establishes what
may be called the permanency of chemical substance that metallic
lead is reproducible from the ashes of lead, sulphur verum from the
acid of sulphur. And, whether or not taking note of the oxidations
and deoxidations effected, how little differently, even at the present
day, would the actions referred to be described and explained ! Is it
not our habit to say that charcoal and sulphur and lead are bodies
possessing potential chemical energy that is, phlogiston ; that, in
the act of burning, their energy which was potential becomes kinetic
or dynamical, and is dissipated in the form of light and heat ; that
the products of their burning (including the gaseous product now
known to be furnished by the burning of charcoal) are substances
devoid of chemical energy that is, of phlogiston ; that, when the
acid substance furnished by burning sulphur is heated with charcoal,
some energy of the unburnt charcoal is transferred to the burnt sul
phur, just as some energy of a raised weight may be transferred to a
fallen one, whereby the burnt sulphur is unburnt, provided with en
ergy, and enabled to burn again, and the fallen weight is lifted up,
provided with energy, and enabled to fall again ; that the potential
chemical energy of metallic lead did not originate in the lead, but is
energy or phlogiston transferred thereto from the charcoal by which
it was smelted ; and, lastly, that the chemical energy of the charcoal
itself, its capability of burning, its power of doing work, in one word,
its phlogiston, is merely a portion of energy appropriated directly
from the solar rays ?

If this be a correct interpretation of the phlogistic doctrine, it is
evident that the Stahlians, though ignorant of much that has since
become known, were nevertheless cognizant of much that became
afterward forgotten. For most of what has since become known
mankind are indebted to the surpassing genius of Lavoisier; but the
truth which he established, alike with that which he subverted, is now
recognizable as a partial truth only ; and the merit of his generaliza
tion is now perceived to consist in its addition to its demerit to con
sist in its supercession of the not less grand generalization estab
lished by his scarcely-remembered predecessors. This being so, the
relationship to one another of the Stahlian and Lavoisierian theories
of combustion furnishes an apt illustration of the general truth set
forth by a great modern writer, that " in the human mind one-sided-
ness has always been the rule, and many-sidedness the exception.
Hence, even in revolutions of opinion, one part of the truth usually
sets while another rises. Even progress, which ought to superadd,
for the most part only substitutes one partial and incomplete truth for
another; improvement consisting chiefly in this, that the new frag
ment of truth is more wanted, more adapted to the needs of the time,
than that which it displaces."

The partial truth contributed by Lavoisier was indeed more want-

THE REVIVED THEORY OF PHLOGISTON. 567

ed, more adapted to the needs of the time, than the partial truth
which it displaced. To him chemists are indebted for their present
conception of material elements and especially for their knowledge
of the part played by the air in the phenomena of combustion, where
by oxygenated compounds are produced. The phlogistians, indeed,
were not unaware of the necessity of air to combustion, but, being
ignorant of the nature of air, were necessarily ignorant of the func
tions which it fulfilled. To burn and throw off phlogiston being
with them synonymous expressions, the air was conceived to act by
somehow or other enabling the combustible to throw its phlogiston
off; and a current of air was conceived to promote combustion by
enabling the combustible to throw its phlogiston off more easily.
Moreover, contact of air was not essential to combustion, provided
there was present instead some substance, such as nitre, which,
equally with or even more effectively than air, could enable the com
bustible to discharge itself of phlogiston. But, while the phlogis
tians, on the one hand, were unaware that the burnt product differed
from the original combustible otherwise than as ice differs from water,
by loss of energy, Lavoisier, on the other hand, disregarded the no
tion of energy, and showed that the burnt product included not only
the stuff of the combustible, but also the stuff of the oxygen it had
absorbed in the burning. But, as well observed by Dr. Crum-Brown,
we now know "that no compound contains the substances from which
it was produced, but that it contains them minus something. We
now know what this something is, and can give it the more appro
priate name of potential energy ; but there can be no doubt that this
is what the chemists of the seventeenth century meant when they
spoke of phlogiston."

Accordingly, the phlogistic and antiphlogistic views are in reality
complementary and not, as suggested by their names and usually
maintained, antagonistic to one another. It has been said, for exam
ple, that, according to Stahl, the product of combustion is simple, and
the combustible a compound of the product with imaginary phlogiston
which is false ; whereas, according to Lavoisier, the combustible is
simple, and the product a compound of the combustible witli actual
oxygen which is true. But in this case, as in so many others, every
thing turns upon the use of the same word in a different sense at dif
ferent periods of time. When Lavoisier spoke of red lead as being
metallic lead combined with oxygen, lie meant that the matter or stuff
of the red lead consisted of the matter or stuff of \eadphts the matter
or stuff of oxygen. But, when the Stahlians spoke of metallic lead be
ing burnt lead combined with phlogiston, they had the same sort of
idea of combination in this instance as others have expressed by say
ing that the weight of a body is compounded of its matter and its
gravity ; or that steam is a compound of water and heat ; or, to use a
yet more Lavoisieriau expression, that oxygen gas itself is a compound

5 68 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the basis of oxygen with caloric. It is not, then, that the one state
ment, Stahlian or Lavoisierian, is false and the other true, but that
both of them are distorted, because incomplete. Chemists nowadays
are both Stahlian and Lavoisierian in their notions, or have regard
both to energy and matter. But Lavoisierian ideas still interfere very
little with our use of the Stahlian language. While we acknowledge
that in the act of burning the combustible and the oxygen take equal
part, just as in the act of falling the weight and the earth take equal
part, yet in our common language we alike disregard the abundant
atmosphere and abundant earth as being necessarily understood, and
speak only of the energy of the combustible and of the weight, which
burn and fall respectively. Whatever may be the fault of language,
however, chemists do not omit to superpose the Lavoisierian on the
Stahlian notion. They recognize fully that it is by the union of the
combustible with oxygen that phlogiston is dissipated in the form of
heat ; and, further, that phlogiston can only be restored to the burnt
combustible on condition of separating the combustible from the oxy
gen with which it has united, just as energy of position can only be
restored to a fallen weight on condition of separating it to a distance
from the surface on which it has fallen.

That Stahl and his followers regarded phlogiston as a material
substance, if they did so regard it, should interfere no more with our
recognition of the merit due to their doctrine, than the circumstance
of Black and Lavoisier regarding caloric as a material substance, if
they did so regard it, should interfere with our recognition of the
merit due to the doctrine of latent heat. But, though defining phlo
giston as the principle or matter of fire, it is not at all clear that the
phlogistians considered this matter of fire as constituting a real body
or ponderable substance ; but rather that they thought and spoke of it
as many philosophers nowadays think and speak of the electric fluid
and luminiferous ether. The nondescript character, properly ascriba-
ble to phlogiston, is indicated by the following quotation taken from
Macquer s "Clemens de Chymie Theorique " (1749). It must not, of
course, be forgotten that the popular impression as to phlogiston hav
ing been conceived by its advocates as a material substance having a
negative weight or levity, is erroneous, and is based on an innovation
that was introduced during the struggling decadence of the phlogistic
theory, and advocated more particularly by Lavoisier s subsequent
colleague, Guyton de Morveau, in his " Dissertation sur le Phlogistique,
considere comme Corps grave, et par Rapport aux Changemens de
Pesanteur qu il produit dans les Corps auxquels il est uni " (1762).
Macquer writes as follows :

"Matter of the sun, or of light, phlogiston, fire, sulphur-principle,
4 inflammable matter such are the names usually employed to designate the
element fire. But no precise distinction appears to have been drawn between
fire viewed as a principle in the composition of a body, and fire when it stands

THE REVIVED THEORY OF PHLOGISTON. 569

alone and in its natural state. Viewed under the latter aspect, the terms fire,
matter of the sun, of light, and of heat, are specially appropriate to it. Under
such conditions, it is a substance which may be regarded as made up of infini
tesimal particles, agitated by a very rapid and continuous motion, and hence
essentially fluid. This substance, of which the sun is, as it were, the general
reservoir, is emanating thence constantly, and is universally distributed through
out all bodies known to us, though not as a principle, or as essential to their con
stitution, inasmuch as we may deprive them of it at least in great measure
without their suffering the least decomposition in consequence. . . . Yet the
phenomena presented by inflammable substances in burning show that they
really contain the matter of fire as one of their principles. . . . Let us, there
fore, investigate the properties of this fire which has become fixed, and en
tered as a principle into bodies. To it we will specially assign the name of
inflammable matter, sulphur-principle, and phlogiston, to distinguish it
from pure fire."

Again, much the same thing is to be found in Baume s " Manuel
de Chymie " (1765) ; as, for example :

"We consider fire in two different states: when it is pure, isolated, and
forming no part of any compound .... when it is combined with other sub
stances, forming one of the constituent principles of compound bodies. . . . We
have no certainty whether or not fire possesses weight. There are experiments
pro and contra. . . . During the combustion of substances, combined fire is re
duced to elementary fire, and is dissipated as the process goes on. The famous
Boerhaave, however, is not of this opinion ; he says that, were this the case, the
amount of elementary fire in Nature must increase ad infinitum. . . . But it is
easy to reply to this objection by saying that, as we have the right to presume,
the elementary fire discharged from bodies combines with other substances, and
that it loses all its properties as free fire on becoming a constituent principle of
bodies into the composition of which it enters. . . . The principle here spoken
of is that to which Stahl has given the name of phlogiston."

In interpreting the above and other phlogistic writings by the
light of modern doctrine, it is not meant to attribute to their several
authors the precise notion of energy that now prevails. It is con
tended only that the phlogistians had, in their time, possession of a
real truth in Nature which, altogether lost sight of in the intermediate
period, has since crystallized out in a definite form. "I trust," said
Beccher, "that I have got hold of my pitcher by the right handle."
And what he and his followers got hold of and retained so tenaciously,
though it may be shiftingly and ignorantly, we now hold to know
ingly, definitely, and quantitatively, as part and parcel of the grandest
generalization in science that has ever yet been established.

570 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MYKIAPODS.

BY MAJOR HOLLAND, B. M. L. I.

" 13 LEASE, sir, here s one of them nasty mischiefull many-legs as
J- I told you pisened the melon-bed so as we never got nothink
off of em. Nobody can t say as they wasn t took care of, for I was a
waterin and a waterin on em mornin , noon, and night, all along the
droughty summer. It stands reasonable like to natur as water-melons
should take a sight o water ; twasn t my overdoin on em with m ist-
ure as rotted the roots off; twas these here plaguey varmint ! "

Having delivered this oration, and proved to his own entire satis
faction " as how he was right all along, and master was mistook "
about poor Curcurbita citrullus having been drenched to death with
icy pump-water, the obstinate old gardener deposited his writhing
scape-goat on the study-table, and retired triumphant to the coach
house, where he whistled loud pa3ans of victory to the Bramahs and
Cochins of the stable-yard.

What yellow-brown Myriapod is this ? His flexible body, which he
is tying into all manner of knots, is composed of no fewer than eighty-
one distinct segments, to say nothing of the odd one at the end of the
tail, and the five which have coalesced to form the head. If we count
these five fused segments as one (as we do the four which Prof. Hux
ley tells us combine together to make up our own human brain-boxes),
then his body is made up of eighty-three somites, of which the cephalic,
the anterior-thoracic, which bears that terrible pair of hooked maxilli-
pedes, and the anal, are the only three presenting any marked differ
ences from each other, and from the eighty others which are as
" strictly uniform " as the helmets of the metropolitan police.

How the fellow shuns the light ! Does his conscience trouble him ?
Does he feel himself guilty of " pisenin " the melons, that he wriggles
so uneasily until he succeeds in burying himself out of sight in the silk
tassel of the pen- wiper ? A burrowing troglodyte by nature, I suspect,
and on closer examination lie proves to be such Greopldlus subter-
raneus (underground earth-lover), of the family Greophilidce, of the
subdivision Chilopoda (foot-feeders), of the order Myriapoda, of the
class Articulata, according to Newport.

He has no eyes; he doesn t want any; he passes his life in the
dark, underground, tearing up old shreds of farmyard manure and
vegetable matter, always preferring scavengers work when he can get
it, and doing good service by eating up the helpless, soft, succulent
larvae of the hosts of insects that prey upon our crops. The sins of
the wire-worm have been laid to his charge ; his third cousins the lu-
lidce do undoubtedly steal our potato " sets," and bore into young
peas, or rather into old peas just " spritting" and about to send up

MTRIAPODS. 571

young ones ; but it seems doubtful if he himself ever attacks fresh or
living vegetables; he seems to be one of Nature s many vidangeurs,
and, because he is found minding his business and eating up rotten
ness, he is accused of producing it. As well might we say that our
sewer-men produce typhus and cholera. But he has even been charged
with having caused the potato-disease! because he was found laboring
to remove the affected tubers. Beware, ye brave surgeons who fight
with zymotic demons and risk your own lives to lift up stricken hu
manity, lest ye be arraigned for producing all the long catalogue of
human ills that figure in our sanitary statistics !

Our captive has no eyes ; he has, however, an " ocellus," a mere
pigment-speck behind the base of each of his fifteen-jointed antenna?,
and he has the smallest possible threadlet of an optic nerve. I suspect
he cannot see, in the ordinary sense, but can distinguish between the
light with which he has nothing to do, and the darkness in which he
feels his way about with his antenna when doing his duty like a humble
vegetarian jackal, or adjutant.

The Myriapods have been placed at different times in different
classes of the animal kingdom. In one famous system we find them
under the head of Crustacea ; another, in remote times, ranged them
with the Hemiptera and Orthoptera as " insects which only undergo a
partial metamorphosis." They have slight affinities with both, and
even with the Annelids ; like the latter, they grow in length by the
successive addition of new segments between the penultimate and
anal. The lower subdivision, the Chilognatha, by the situation of
their reproductive orifices, seem to betray Crustacean relationships ;
but we remember that, in the first phase of their development, they
displayed three pairs of legs only, like the typical hexapod insect.
They appear to stand out the strong, well-marked, first link of that
long chain which bridges over the mighty gulf which rolls between
the creeping worm and the flying insect. The Myriapod is the lowest
articulate animal, the Annelid the highest annidose i. e., according to
the old scheme of classification, the latter term has recently been used
with a widely-extended signification. Ten years ago the subdivision
Chilopoda consisted of four families, including ninety-four genera;
and the low r er subdivision, Chilognatha, of four families, containing
seventy-five genera ; a tremendous total of variations of a type ; but
since then they have been shuffled and cut, and lumped and split, like
the German states, till nobody knows which is which.

" An articulation complete in all its mechanical appliances is not
produced in the animal kingdom below the Myriapod. A joint is the
symbol of organic superiority ; it is not an arbitrary symbol ; it is a
unit in an assemblage of signs which proclaim a newer and higher
combination in the arrangements which constitute life. At this limit
in the animal series the fluids and the solids of the organism undergo
a signal exaltation of standard. The system of the chylaqueous fluid

572 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

exists no longer in the adult organism, it is present only in the em
bryonic. It is supplanted by that of the blood proper. Coincidentally
with the * joint at the frontier of the articulate sub-kingdom there
occurs a heart to circulate the blood, fibrine, and with it an order of
floating corpuscles more highly organized in the fluids ; a wondrous
development of the muscular apparatus, striae in the muscle-cell, a rapid
increase in the dimensions of the cephalic ganglia, and in those of the
organs of the special senses. It is here in the history of the reproduct
ive system that the dioecious character is first unquestionably assumed.
These are noteworthy events in the ascensive march of organic archi
tecture." (DK. WILLIAMS, Magazine of Natural History -, 1854.)

The armor-plates of the cylindrical lulus are composed of a semi-
crustaceous hard substance, but in the Scolopendridce, which our
" false wire-worm " closely approaches, the integuments are of a flexible
chitinous substance, the back of each segment is covered by a plate,
the ventral surface by a somewhat smaller plate, the epimeral por
tions, as well as the interspaces between the somites, are covered by
a loosely-fitting coriaceous membrane of much thinner texture.

The circulating system has been a battle-ground for men with great
reputations. The nervous and reproductive systems, and the develop
ment day by day from the ovum, have been drawn out with elaborate
minuteness by Newport, in "Philosophical Transactions " for 1841
and 1843, but I have not fallen in with a drawing of their tracheary
system, which is well worthy of careful study.

The spiracular orifices are not placed as in insects between the seg
ments, but in the side of each, a little below the dorsal plate ; they are
not minute apertures, nor vertical slits, neither are they furnished
with " guards " of setae, or hairs, to exclude dust and foreign bodies ;
but they are circular openings, each with a well-defined, hard-looking
ring, over which the tough but pliable lateral membrane passes, lining
the entrance, which is directed slightly backward, and can be closed
by a sphincter-muscle. The tracheae are very large in the anterior seg
ments, occupying no small portion of their internal cavities, but they
decrease in diameter in proportion as the segments recede from the
head ; possibly there may be need for a more abundant supply of
oxygen in the region of the brain, and in the first-formed portions of
the body, than in the equally large but more remote additions which
are from time to time developed near the caudal extremity.

Let us detach half a dozen pairs of spiracles, with their tracheal
appurtenances complete, from the dissected tail-end of Geophilus the
much maligned, float them on to a slide, and bring the "two-thirds
objective " to bear upon them.

A ladder of shining silver, a very Jacob s ladder, bright and beau
tiful enough to have been let down from heaven for the feet of angels.

The six uprights and the cross-rungs are all constructed of the
same tubular wire rope glistening with a dazzling metallic lustre, and

MYRIAPODS.

573

without a flaw any where. The tubes are composed of an outer and an
inner coat, containing between them the spiral coil, to which they are
closely attached ; a delicate membrane also connects the turns of the
spiral with each other. It is interesting to compare these animal
breathing tubes with their analogues the spiral vessels of the vegetable
kingdom; the latter are easily extracted
from the young shoots of asparagus, or
from the leaves of the hyacinth. The
spring-like coil insures a free open passage
for the air which rushes in by the spiracular
orifices, expiration being effected by the
contraction of these elastic channels, by
which the effete air is forcibly expelled
through the openings by which it origi
nally entered.

The main tracheae pass down the axes
of the blood-channels, floating in the vital
fluid, which they revivify with the oxygen
which they thus carry to and through the
life-stream. We are told that the air-pipe
does not terminate where the wiry-looking
spiral comes to an end; the latter dwin
dles away imperceptibly to nothing, but
the trachea thence becomes membranous,
and, dividing into innumerable Branches,
which bear to the main trunks the same
relations that the capillaries bear to the
arteries, penetrates the substance of the
muscles, inconceivably fine branches hav
ing been traced accompanying the nerves,
while the ultimate plexiforrn extremes of
the system aerate immediately the solids.
"In all the transparent structures of in
sects every observer may prove for him
self that the blood-currents travel in the
same passages as the trachese, but this
is only the case with the primary, and
secondary branches, never in the capillary
trachese ; the blood-corpuscles of the Myri-
apod exceed by several times in diameter
that of the extreme capillary membra
nous trachese ; it is perfectly marvelous to
what inconceivable minuteness the air-
current is reduced in traveling along these
tubes." What a simple and efficient plan, what an economy of space is
this arrangement of tube within tube, for aerating the blood in a class

TRACHEA OP GEOPHILUS STTBTEK-
RANEUS. Magnified 140 diameters.

574 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of lowly, creeping things of earth that do not attain to the dignity
of lungs ! There is a saving of time, too, for the blood is made arterial
while on its journey, and thus travels direct (without the delay of
passing off to special pulmonary organs) to the performance of its
functions, removing, replacing, renewing, sustaining, building up, ab
sorbing. Having accomplished these, and become as it were venous,
it passes into the intervisceral spaces, and there, receiving an in
crement of fresh globules, the products of digestion, completes its
circuit by returning through distinct valvular openings into the dor
sal vessel from which it was first distributed. " Among the Chilog-
natha" &sijs Siebold, "the lulidce are noticeable for the very simple
character of their trachean apparatus ; their air-canals neither ramify
nor anastomose. With the Glomerina the trachea? are branched, but
do not anastomose; but those of the Chilopoda are very ramose, and
their large trunks intercommunicate at their origin by longitudinal
and transverse anastomoses, so that each stigma can introduce air into
the entire trachean system." It was chiefly with the view of drawing
attention to this last-mentioned fact (a most striking evidence of de
sign), to this remarkable example of the exquisite adaptation of the
creature s construction to the condition of existence ordained for it by
the Creator, that I began this bit of simple gossip about Geophilus.
In his subterranean career he constantly meets with accidents which
link him up in sympathetic association with Brunei and Stephenson,
and the Bedouin of the desert. He never bored a practicable highway
beneath the bed of Isis, nor made firm the foundations of an iron road
across the quaking surface of Chat Moss ; neither has he braved the
burning sand-blasts of the simoom ; yet in his degree he has met with
such like critical experiences a hundred times.

One day the roof of his tunnel crashed in upon him, and buried a
dozen of his segments, squeezing the very breath out of them ; on
another day the rain had saturated the rubbish-heap he was toiling
in, a score or two of his somites were underwater, and he had to "bat
ten down" the stigmata belonging thereto to save those portions of
himself from drowning ; and yet, again, in the scorching dog-days, a
hot wind swept the earth, and a dry and thirsty clod, crumbling away,
discharged an avalanche of dust which overwhelmed nine-tenths of
him. In each and all of these catastrophes his life would not have
been worth ten seconds purchase, even with his many spiracles, but
for the anastomosing branches of his windpipes, the cross-rungs of
his air-ladder, which enabled the air received by the unchoked segments
to pass in every direction through the whole system. That there is
perfectly free communication from any one spiracle to the whole net
work of air-passages may be seen by examining the figure which I have
given ; and if any reader has still a doubt on his mind he may remove
it, if he is a dexterous manipulator, by dissecting out the tracheary
apparatus of the first chilopodous Myriapod he can lay hands on ;

SOAP-BUBBLES. 575

and, stopping the orifices of all the spiracles but one, he will find that
through that one he may inject the whole labyrinth of air-vessels with
carmine.

I observed that a correspondent, J. G. D., in December last, was
much surprised at the display of a phosphorescent light by a centipede
he had found. Geophilus electricus, a member of the same family, and
a near relation of our Subterraneus, must have been the pyrotechnist
he chanced upon. " The caustic brown fluid which most Myriapoda
when touched emit from a row of orifices, foramina repugnatoria,
situated on the sides of the segments of the body, and which exhales
an odor like that of chlorine, is secreted by small pyriform glandular
follicles situated immediately beneath the skin ; it is from glands upon
the sides of the body analogous to these that Geophilus eleciricus
emits a luminous liquid."

It would be most interesting to ponder over the three varieties of
breathing apparatus mentioned by Siebold, and to note their special
adaptations to the life conditions and necessities of the three distinct
genera provided with them; and there are other wonders in the ways
and mechanism of each and all of them that one longs to dwell upon ;
but we are not essayists here, only cheerful " gossips " of the wayside,
who seek to be merry and wise, accurate, though simple and amusing.
We have run to the end of our tether, and must say good-by to
Geophilus subterraneus and all the Myriapods. Science- Gossip.

SOAP-BUBBLES.

BY PEOF. KtfCKER.

IN the museum of the Louvre, in Paris, there is a vase which has
by some strange chance been handed down to us through the
long ages which have proved fatal to many others far more worthy of
preservation than itself. It was manufactured in Italy before the
foundation of the city of Rome by the ancient Etruscans, and it is
decorated and this is the reason I bring it to your notice this even
ing with a design representing a group of children blowing bubbles.
This ancient relic of those early days incontestably proves to us that
the art of performing that beautiful experiment, if not with soap and
water, at least with some one of the comparatively few liquids with
which it can be satisfactorily undertaken, has been known at least for
twenty-five hundred years. But, though generation after generation
the children amused themselves with it, century after century passed
away, leaving unanswered, and in all probability unthought of, the

1 A lecture delivered in the Hulme Town-Hall, Manchester, on Wednesday, November
3, 1875.

576 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

numerous questions which it cannot fail to suggest to us. Why is it
so easy to blow bubbles with some liquids, and so hard to form them
with others ? Why does a bubble when blown at the end of an open
tube gradually contract and disappear ? Why, when it bursts, does it
not still remain a liquid film, but is shattered to an almost impercep
tible dust ? These and a hundred others remained unanswered, and,
as I have said, perhaps un-put, until after the genius of Newton had
attacked the far more difficult problem of the colors which bubbles
display. To night, however, I hope to be able to give you the an
swers to some of these so long-delayed inquiries, as it is now perhaps
two hundred years since men of science began to turn their attention
to the phenomena of liquid bubbles, and of those properties of liquids
on which they depend, and their eiforts have been rewarded with no
small measure of success, although it is certainly only within the time
of many of us here that they have been able to give anything like a
complete explanation of them all. In order, however, that we may
understand how best to study the laws and constitution of a soap-
bubble, it is necessary that we should in the first place clearly com
prehend what it really is. We all know how soap-bubbles are ordi
narily formed. A common tobacco-pipe is dipped into a mixture of
soap and water, and when it is withdrawn a thin liquid film stretches
across the mouth, which we can blow out into a bubble, and then
shake off and detach from the tube. I will now perform the experi
ment of blowing a bubble before you ; only, instead of employing a
tobacco-pipe, I will use this glass funnel, and for the common soap
and water I will substitute a mixture of Castile soap, water, and gly
cerine. [A large bubble was speedily blown, and it showed the usual
beautiful colors. This and the succeeding experiments were dexter
ously and successfully performed, and were much applauded].

You now see how, by using a proper liquid, and by taking proper
precautions, we are able to obtain bubbles of enormous size. But I
wish you for a moment to confine your attention to the bubble, not in
its full-blown beauty, as you saw it just now, but rather in that stage
in which it was merely a thin film covering the mouth of the funnel.
Now, this film was originally the topmost layer of that portion of the
liquid inclosed by the funnel, which as I withdrew it skimmed off a thin
slice from the surface a slice so thin that had I allowed it to drain for
a while its thickness would not have exceeded four millionths of an inch.
But, although the total quantity of liquid contained in it was so small,
the surface of the film was no less than twice the area of the orifice
of this large funnel. Hence, both from the method of formation of
the film and from its constitution when formed, it is evident that,
if, in any respects, the surface of a liquid differs from the internal
mass, if there are laws which govern and forces which are at play
on the surface, the effects of which we do not recognize elsewhere,
these peculiar properties must be to us of primary importance, if we

SOAP-BUBBLES. 577

would understand the theory and constitution of a soap-bubble. The
course which I shall adopt this evening is, in the first place, to study
the laws and forces which are in operation on the surface of a liquid,
and after that I shall try to show you how they may be used to ex
plain the phenomena which we observe in the short but brilliant life
of a bubble.

I have upon the wall a diagram on which three of the principal
properties of the surface of a liquid are enunciated. That to which
I wish first to draw your attention is that the surface of a liquid is in
a state of tension. It is necessary that before we go any further you
should have a clear comprehension of the meaning of this word " ten
sion." I have here a piece of India-rubber, and if I stretch it with my
hands I throw the whole of it into a state of tension. The peculiar
ity of this state is that, if I were to divide the India-rubber into two
portions with a sharp knife, the parts, no matter where the incision
was made, would instantly fly in opposite directions, and each would
become shorter. But what each of those parts would then actually
do that is, contract or become shorter each is now tending to do ;
but, since it could only become shorter by elongating the other part,
and as that is pulling in an opposite direction with equal force, the
two forces neutralize one another, and the whole remains in a state of
rest, and also in a state of tension. If, then, we generalize from this
particular instance, we may define a state of tension as follows : that
a body is said to be in a state of tension when each of any two parts
into which it may be divided tends to contract and to expand the other.
You observe, then, that the tendency of one part to extend the other
is the criterion of a state of tension ; and I will now show you a cou
ple of experiments which will, I think, enable me to prove that it
exists in the surface of a liquid.

I have here a small iron ring, and stretched loosely across it, from
side to side, there is a piece of cotton. I dip it into a vessel contain
ing some of the soap-mixture I used just now, and it comes out with
a film adhering to it precisely in the same way as the funnel did. I
now show you upon the screen the image of the ring, with the thread
stretching across it, and resting upon the thin liquid film. If what
I have just been saying be true if each portion of the film be in a
state of tension then each of the parts into which the thread divides
it is tending to contract and to expand the other. Thus, the thread
is acted upon by two forces : the portion of the film to the right is
tending to pull it to the right, and the portion on the left is tending
to pull it to the left ; but, inasmuch as these two tendencies are equal
and opposite, the effect upon the thread is as if they did not exist ;
that is to say, it will remain at rest in any position on the film. I
will now move the thread about on the film with a wire, showing that
it will remain wherever I place it. I distort it and put it in any
position I like. Let us, however, consider what will happen if I break
VOL. ix. 37

5 ;8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the film upon one side of the thread, and leave it uninjured upon the
other. The surface-tension, destroyed upon one side, will remain in
action in the unruptured film, and therefore we should expect the
thread to be pulled toward the uninjured side. We can easily put
the matter to the test of experiment. I break one side by touching it
with a hot wire, and what we foresaw occurs, the thread is instantly
pulled toward the side which the wire did not tear. This experi
ment proves that the surface of a liquid is in a state of tension.
I have, however, another experiment to show you upon the same
point, which will add to our knowledge upon the subject, for it will
not only show that the tension exists on the surface, but that in dif
ferent liquids it exists in different degrees of intensity. You now see
upon the screen the image of a few drops of colored water, which are
placed upon a glass plate. I dip a glass rod into some pure water,
and touch the colored film with the drop which adheres to the end.
As you see, nothing very particular happens. There is only a slight
diminution of the blueness in the centre, owing to the fact that the
colored water has been mixed with the pure water. Now, I will dip
the rod into alcohol, and you will see a different result. As soon as
I touch the blue water with the alcohol a motion occurs, and it moves
rapidly away from the point at which the contact took place. Now,
let us consider shortly what the explanation of this phenomenon is.
The surface of the water and the surface of the alcohol are alike in a
state of tension ; but the tension of the surface of the water is greater
than that at the surface of the alcohol. At the moment I put the drop
of alcohol upon the water we had a small drop of alcohol surrounded
by a large quantity of water, and between the two there was a line of
demarkation, which we may, for simplicity s sake, liken to the thread
you saw just now. When I destroyed the force of the tension in the
first experiment on the one side, the force which remained on the other
side pulled the thread toward it. In this case the force was acting
on both sides ; but the force at the surface of the water pulling away
from the centre of the alcohol-drop was greater than the force at the
surface of the alcohol-drop pulling toward its centre. The conse
quence was, that we obtained a motion in the direction in which the
greater force was acting that is, in the direction in which the water
was pulling away from the centre ; and this continued the water and
alcohol moving farther and farther away, until the two became entire
ly mixed together. An experiment similar to this may be performed
after dinner in the evening : When we pour some wine into a glass
we generally in doing so wet the sides, and the result is, a thin film of
liquid adheres to them above that portion of the glass which is filled
with wine. This film soon contracts into drops, and each of these
drops consists, as all wine does, of a mixture of water, alcohol, and
certain other substances, the presence of which we may for the mo
ment neglect. Alcohol, as you know, is an extremely volatile fluid,

S OAP-B UBBLES. 5 79

which evaporates very rapidly, and therefore above the surface of
the liquid there is a small atmosphere of alcohol formed by evapora
tion from the wine. This evaporation goes on in the drops as well as
in the main body of the wine, but more rapidly at the upper surface
of a drop than at the lower ; the reason being that the lower part
is more completely immersed in the little cloud of alcohol which
hangs over the wine itself. A drop is thus formed composed in the
upper part of water, with comparatively little alcohol, and in the
lower part of water with a larger proportion of alcohol. The experi
ment I have just shown proves that the tension in the upper part
must be greater than that in the more alcoholic or lower portion of
the drop. Hence you may often see drops of wine actually running
up the side of a glass, in obedience to a force exerted in an upward
direction, by the greater surface-tension of the portion containing the
larger percentage of water. A very important deduction may be
made from the fact that the surface of a liquid is in a state of ten
sion. You saw in the first experiment that, as soon as the film on
the one side of the thread was broken, that on the other side con
tracted very rapidly, and took up a form with as small a surface as
was possible under the circumstances. If we were to generalize from
this particular instance, we should be led to the conclusion that, be
cause the surface of a liquid is in a state of tension, and thus each
part of it is tending to contract, therefore it will always assume
a shape which will have the smallest possible surface. I will now
show an experiment to illustrate this fact. I have here a tube formed
of four plane pieces of glass, through which I shall be able to send
light, and so show you the image of its contents on the screen. It
forms, in fact, a little box of glass, the ends of which are open, one
of them being considerably narrower than the other. I now put the
larger end of this tube into a mixture of soap and water, and I with
draw it with a film adhering to it. This film has a tendency to as
sume that shape which has the smallest possible surface ; and evi
dently, by moving up the tube toward the narrow end, its surface
can be made smaller than it is at present. You now see on the
screen an image of the tube. I move it for a moment in order to
form the film. You now see the image of the film, and I think you
will observe that it is slowly moving up the tube, and therefore that
its surface is becoming smaller and smaller. The experiment might
be prolonged until the film burst ; but, at all events, you have there
sufficient proof that it moves into a position in which its surface is
diminished. And, further, inasmuch as the image of the tube is turned
upside down on the screen, what appeared to you to be a motion
from above to below was, in fact, a motion from below to above ; the
film was in reality moving upward, although to you it appeared to be
moving down. It was really raising its own weight instead of being
pulled down by it. We have thus now established this quality of

5 8o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

liquids, namely, that their surfaces tend to become as small as possi
ble, and we may extend the law to another and very interesting case.
Let me suppose for a moment that I take a mass of clay : it is
evident that I could mould it into an infinite number of different
forms ; each of these forms might have precisely the same volume,
might occupy exactly the same space, but they might all have very
different surfaces. For instance, if I took a rolling-pin and rolled the
clay out into a thin disk, and then compressed it into a round ball, it
is evident that, although the volume might be precisely the same in
the two cases, the area of the surface would be much greater in the
disk than in the ball. Now, in the experiment I showed you last, the
film moved up the tube, because it had a tendency to diminish its sur
face as far as possible ; but, if I had continued the experiment longer
if I had allowed the film to move up to the narrowest part of the
tube, it would, even then, only in part have satisfied this tendency,
and not have done so completely it would have attained the smallest
surface possible under the circumstances, though not the smallest
possible surface. The reason why it would not have done so is this :
that forces were acting upon it other than that which tended to make
it contract, for it was also affected by the force of adhesion to the
sides of the glass tube ; and, as a matter of fact, liquids are ordina
rily subjected to the action of no less than three distinct sets of forces.
The first of these is the attractive influence of the earth, or the weight
of the liquid ; the second is the adhesion of the liquid to the sides of
any solid vessel in which it may be contained ; and the third class
comprises those forces which are at play in the liquid itself. It is
evident, then, that the form which a liquid takes will not be due to
any one of these, but to all three. The form which it would assume
if left to the action of its molecular forces will be modified in the first
place by its weight, and in the next by the adhesion to the sides of
the solid vessel. Hence the question arises, if we take a liquid free
from both these disturbing forces free from the attractive influence
of the earth, or practically so, and free also from the force of adhe
sion to the side of the solid vessel which of all the possible shapes
into which I might mould my mass of clay would the liquid assume
so as to have the smallest possible surface ? This question we are
able to answer very easily by means of experiment, and the method
by which we do so depends upon the application of an extremely sim
ple principle. When we place a stone in a mass of water we have, in
order to immerse it entirely, to push aside, to remove to the right and
left, a certain quantity of water, the volume of which is precisely equal
to the volume of the stone ; and the stone sinks to the bottom, be
cause its own weight is greater than the weight of the water which it
has so displaced. A piece of cork, on the other hand, would rise to
the surface, because its weight is less than the weight of the water
equal in volume to itself.

S OAP-B UBBLES. 5 8 1

If we could obtain a body the weight of which was precisely the
same as the weight of the water it displaced, it would have no ten
dency to sink or swim, but would remain at rest in any part of the
water into which we might choose to place it. Hence this body would
be practically free from the attractive influence of the earth, and we
should have succeeded in neutralizing the force of gravity, since a
body having no tendency to rise or fall might be considered as re
moved to such a distance from the earth as to have no weight. Of
course, this conclusion is independent of the fact whether the body
introduced into the water is a liquid or a solid, and we may substitute
for the water any other liquid ; but, if we employ two liquids, they
must satisfy the following conditions : In the first place, they must
not mix together, as wine and water do, but must remain separate,
like water and oil. In the second place, the weight of any volume
of one must be exactly equal to that of the same volume of the other;
and, in the third place, the two liquids must have, when in contact,
no chemical effect upon each other. Could two such liquids be found,
a small quantity of the one introduced into a mass of the second
would be a state eminently favorable for determining the shape which
it would assume under the influence of its surface-tension alone. It
would, as I have pointed out, be free from the attraction of the earth,
and it would also be free from the force of adhesion to the sides of a
solid vessel. It would, however, be extremely difficult to find two
liquids which would satisfy these conditions ; but, although we cannot
find them to our hand, we are able to manufacture them. Water is a
liquid which is heavier than oil, and alcohol is on the other hand
lighter than oil ; and, if we mingle water and alcohol, we may make a
mixture, the weight of any given volume of which is precisely equal
to that of the same volume of oil, and by introducing a few drops of
oil into the mass of alcohol and water of the right density we ought
to succeed in observing the form which a liquid assumes under the
influence of its surface-tension alone. You now see upon the screen
the image of a mass of oil in a mixture of alcohol and water of
the kind I have just described ; and you see that our question is
at once answered the oil assumes a spherical form. From this we
learn that a liquid, if left to the action of its surface-forces alone,
will become a sphere. But inasmuch as the effect of the attractive
influence of the earth, or the weight of the liquid, increases with
the quantity we use, while on the other hand the surface-tension, or
its own moulding molecular force, remains precisely the same, we
should, if we use a large quantity of liquid, expect the weight to be
the particular force which determined its shape ; and if we employ a
small mass of liquid, then the surface-tension, growing proportionately
greater, would become the more important. Thus it follows that,
although we have to use the most accurate adjustment in order to
obtain a sphere of oil an inch in diameter, every rain-drop, every dew-

582 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

drop, and every soap-bubble, is in itself almost a mathematically
accurate sphere. It is very possible, of course, to make a liquid as
sume any number of other shapes you please, but I wish now to draw
your attention to the fact that we are able to give it another very
simple form, namely, that of a cylinder : and I will show you upon
the screen the conversion of a spherical soap-bubble into a cylinder.
You now see the image of a glass funnel. I take another of precisely
the same dimensions, and blow upon it a small bubble, which I make
adhere to the first, and then I draw it out into a very accurate cylin
der. This proves that the form of a quantity of liquid may, under
proper conditions, be cylindrical ; but if we make the cylinder of such
dimensions that the length is very considerable in proportion to the
breadth, then the liquid will only retain the cylindrical form for a
very short time indeed. The slightest jar or disturbance of any kind
will of course make it deviate from its shape, and that deviation
when once begun is continued, as it were, by the liquid of its own
accord. The series of transformations through which the cylinder
will go, I have represented for you in the diagram. At the top is the
long cylinder, which represents the liquid in its first state. Assum
ing that it is slightly disturbed, you see that it swells out in some
places and contracts in others ; and the elevations and depressions
grow greater and greater, until the mass of the liquid becomes, as in
the lower figures, little more than a series of balls tied together by
very fine liquid threads. The transformation does not end here ; the
threads are soon broken, and thus what was originally a continuous
cylinder is transformed into a series of alternately large and small
spheres. I shall have to make use of this particular transformation
of the cylinder later in my lecture ; but I wish for the moment to
call attention to the fact that one very interesting instance of it is
observed whenever water flows out from the bottom of a vessel
through a small circular hole. In such a case the form of the column
of water would be approximately that of a long cylinder. But, as I
have already pointed out, this is a state of what is called unstable
equilibrium of equilibrium which may exist for an instant, but not
for a longer time. Hence the above series of transformations are
gone through. We have alternately contraction and elevation ; these
go on until at length the falling column of water is broken up into a
falling column of drops.

We must now, however, pass on to another property of the sur
faces of liquids, namely, that they press on the liquid, or air which
they contain, in much the same way as a blown-out bladder presses
on the air within it. I will show you an experiment illustrating this
in the following way: If a bubble presses on the air within, then it is
evident that, if we made a hole in its side, the tendency of the com
pressed air would be immediately to escape through the hole, and we
should have a current of air flowing out of the bubble, which would

SOAP-BUBBLES. 583

thus become smaller. I will blow a bubble at one end of a glass
tube, and leave the tube open at the other end ; we shall thus have a
small hole formed in one side of the bubble, which, if our theory is
correct, will gradually contract and disappear. You now see on the
screen images of the ends of two tubes. I have the power of cutting
off one tube entirely from access to the other ; and I do so now, so
that you will, if you please, consider for the purposes of this experi
ment that tube only as existing at the extremity of which I shall
blow the bubble. You now see the image of the soap-bubble, which
as long as the tube is closed remains unaltered in size ; I open it, and
it now at once contracts and disappears. This, then, conclusively
proves that the air in the bubble was compressed. I will now go a
step farther, and show that the amount of this compression depends on
the size of the bubble. If it be large, the air is not so much compressed
as if it be small. Let us consider what would happen if I formed bub
bles at the two ends of a tube. If they were of the same size, evidently
the one pressing the air in one direction, and the other pressing it in
the other with equal force no effect would follow. If, however, one
bubble were smaller than the other, and what I have said be true, the
small one would compress the air within it, and drive it from left to
right (say) with greater force than the other would tend to drive it
from right to left ; hence the air would flow from the small bubble to
the large one ; the large one would increase, and the small one dimin
ish. The smaller the bubble, the more the air would be compressed ;
and thus the current would become greater and greater, until at last
we should see the small bubble entirely disappear, the large one hav
ing absorbed all the air which it previously contained. I will try to
show you this on the screen ; first disconnecting the two tubes, I blow
at their ends bubbles of unequal size. I will now place them in com
munication, so that the air can pass from the one to the other. You
see, the small bubble contracts and the large one expands, and we
thus learn that the pressure of the smaller or more curved bubble
upon the air is greater than that of the less curved one.

I now come to the third property of liquids of which I wish to
speak ; and that is, that the surface of a liquid is generally either more
or less viscous than the interior. With reference to the word viscous,
you will find a familiar example of two liquids which differ very much
in this property of viscosity in treacle and water. Take a vessel of
treacle and a vessel of water, pour the liquids out, and note the dif
ferent way in which they behave ; the water flows out smoothly, one
part slipping over another, whereas the treacle comes out in a great
rolling mass, which seems to stick to the sides of the vessel. Again,
put a spoon into a vessel of water, and move it through the liquid,
you will find little resistance to its motion, the water seems to flow
away to make room for it and closes in again immediately behind.
Try the same experiment with the treacle and you will find the resist-

584 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ance very much increased ; in front of the spoon a little heap of
liquid gathers, which subsides but slowly, and there is a depression
behind which is as slowly filled up. It is evident that there is some
difference between the interior constitutions of the treacle and the
water; and that difference consists in this, that the particles of which
the treacle is composed move among themselves with very much less
facility than do those of the water. The fact, then, of one part of a
liquid moving more or less easily among the other parts is that which
distinguishes one from another in respect to their viscosity. In a
very viscous body, like treacle, the parts move with difficulty ; and in
a non-viscous liquid, like water, they move with comparative ease.
The fact which I wish to impress upon you this evening is, not that
one kind of liquid differs from another; but that one part of a liquid
may differ from another in respect of viscosity ; and that as a general
rule the surface is more or less viscous than the interior. I will now
show you an experiment which will illustrate this fact in a very strik
ing way. I have in a glass vessel a little magnet, which, when I bring
near to it a large magnet, will easily and readily follow its motions.
The vessel also contains a mixture of water and a substance called
saponine. This saponine is extracted from the horse-chestnut, and is,
as far as I know, chiefly interesting on account of the extraordinary
effect it produces on water when mixed with it. In making the mixt
ure, I have added only one part of saponine to sixty of water, and,
to look at, it retains the properties of water ; it is colorless ; it has
none of the viscosity of treacle. In fact, the saponine has next to no
effect on the interior parts of the water, but it has a most extraordi
nary and marked effect on the surface ; and that I will now try to
illustrate. You now see upon the screen the image of the magnet,
and the vessel at the bottom of which there is the mixture of saponine
and water. The magnet is at present about an eighth of an inch
above the liquid. I bring near the large magnet, and you see how
easily it follows its motions. I will now pour in some of my mixture
until the magnet lies upon the surface, and I then again bring the
large magnet near it. It is now upon the surface of the mixture, and
you can see some of the bubbles formed as I pour the liquid in. I
bring the large magnet as near as it was at first and am moving it,
but it produces no effect. I bring it nearer and nearer still no effect.
I bring it so near that you can see its shadow, and still the magnet
remains absolutely motionless. On the surface of the liquid, then, we
have found that the little magnet is totally insensible to the attractive
force of this large one. You may say that the same would happen in
the case of glycerine or treacle. It might ; but now comes the ex
traordinary part of the experiment. I pour in some more saponine
and water, until the little magnet lies a quarter of an inch below its
surface ; I then bring the large magnet near, and you see the result.
It moves almost as freely as in the air itself. Hence we have a

SOAP-BUBBLES. 585

most convincing proof that the surface-viscosity of this solution is
very much greater than the viscosity of the interior of liquid ; and
that the resistance offered to motion by the surface is many times
larger than that experienced by moving bodies in the interior.

Another experiment will illustrate this enormous surface-viscosity
of the mixture of saponine and water in a still more striking way.
I have already explained to you that if we blow a bubble at the end
of an open tube, the bubble will gradually contract until all the air is
expelled. What, however, will occur if, instead of simply allowing
the bubble to drive the air out, I suck the end of the tube and draw
it out more quickly ? I will first perform the experiment on some of
the soap and water I have used before, and you will see that, although
the bubble will contract more rapidly than before, it will retain
throughout the whole of the experiment its spherical form. I will now
repeat the same experiment with saponine and water. In this case,
on account of the great viscosity of this thin film it will be unable to
follow the retreating air as quickly as it must do to retain its spherical
form; the consequence is, it will be unable to retain that form, and it
will therefore collapse and wrinkle up into a purse-shaped bag.

I hope I have succeeded in proving to you that these three prop
erties of liquid surfaces exist. I must now go on to explain how
they can be applied to the theory of soap-bubbles. Let us suppose,
in the first place, that a bubble is rising in a vessel of water. It will
tend to assume a spherical form ; but as it rises to the surface it will
be flattened in the direction in which it is moving, and, instead of be
ing a perfect sphere, it will be longer in one direction than the other.
Evidently, as it moves, it has to displace the water in front of it,
which flows away to the right and left out of the way of the bubble.
But, as I have explained, all liquids offer a certain amount of resist
ance to the motion of one part upon another; and, although the re
sistance offered by water is extremely small, it must be taken into
consideration. The liquid, therefore, has to flow out of the way of
the advancing bubble, and to overcome the resistance offered to its
motion ; but as the bubble rises nearer to the surface it moves faster
and faster, and therefore the water must be removed from its path
more and more quickly. But the resistance offered to its motion be
comes greater the faster it moves ; hence you have the bubble rising
more quickly, the water being obliged to get more quickly out of the
way, and finding more and more difficulty in doing so, and having,
when the bubble gets very near the surface, less space between the
bubble and the surface to flow away in. The result is, that the water
cannot get out of the way, and therefore the bubble carries it up with
it and forms a thin liquid film, which we see as foam upon the surface,
through which the bubbles of air are rising. Supposing the bubble
thus formed were placed upon a solid plate, it would have the form of
half a sphere ; and, as the bubble compresses the air in it, the air

{86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

would press upon the plate ; but the plate would be able to resist the
pressure, and the bubble would remain a hemisphere with a flat base.
If, on the other hand, the bubble were formed on the surface of a
liquid, there would be precisely the same pressure on the bottom, only
it would be acting on a medium which would give way to it ; the
liquid, therefore, would yield to the pressure of the air, and we
should have the bubble as it were a little buried in the liquid by
its own pressure. As the pressure increases with the smallness of
the bubble, we should expect a small bubble to be very deeply buried,
and a large bubble to be slightly buried. I will now pour into the
cell, the image of which you see, a small quantity of liquid, and blow
in it a very small bubble. You now see the images of two bubbles
which have risen to the surface, and that they are very much buried
in the liquid by virtue of their pressure. I will now blow a large
bubble. You see that within it the surface of the liquid is very much
less depressed. I will blow a still larger one. Now I have succeeded
in blowing a very large bubble, and the lower part of it is not appre
ciably depressed. I will now blow a great number of bubbles in con
tact, and will then point out one or two facts. You now see that odd
network which represents a great number of bubbles. There are two
points I wish you to notice. In the first place, when two bubbles
meet, the surface between them may be either plane or curved. It
is plane if both bubbles are of equal size, and therefore compress the
air within them with equal force ; but, if they are unequal, the smaller
bubble, compressing the air more strongly, indents the larger, and
the surface which divides them is curved. Notice also another very
curious point, namely, that in no case do more than three bubbles
meet in a point, excepting for an instant. This follows from the law
that a large number of bubbles, as well as each one, will assume the
smallest possible surface. I cannot go into the proof of this, but it
follows from the law I have already given you. As the bubbles form,
collapse, and disappear, you see that they always so arrange them
selves that no more than three shall ever meet in a point.

Now, then, we have got our bubble on the surface of the liquid.
Let us consider what will happen to it after that. Evidently the
liquid of which it is composed will run down the sides by virtue ot
its own weight ; but there will be a certain resistance to this motion,
greater or less as the viscosity of the surface is great or small. Hence,
there are two different dangers which may beset the bubble. The
first of these is, that when the surface-viscosity is small, then the liquid
runs down the sides of the bubble very easily; the consequence is,
the bubble becomes very thin and bursts. There is, however, an
opposite danger which may imperil the bubble when the surface-vis
cosity is great ; and that is, that the liquid does not flow down in a
straight line or regular curve, but in irregular masses, which every
now and then tear away from each other. Now, these ruptures make

SOAP-BUBBLES. 587

little holes in the surface of the liquid ; and when a hole is made the
surface-tension tends to tear the liquid away, and to make it bigger.
If the liquid has a very considerable surface-tension, the small holes
in the surface may be so instantly turned into large ones that the
bubble may burst. This is, however, less likely to occur when the
surface-viscosity is small than when it is great, because in that case
the liquid flowing in from all sides can more easily fill up the hole, and
restore the damage done, before it becomes dangerously large. The
best kind of bubble for lasting is one in which the surface-viscosity is
tolerably large, so that the sides of the bubble may not become thin
too quickly, and in which the surface-tension is not too great, so that
any small fractures which occur may not be instantly enlarged. When
we find a liquid which has these two properties, we have all the requi
sites for making good bubbles ; but sooner or later a hole is made,
and then the bubble bursts, and in a way which is probably very dif
ferent from what, a priori, we should expect. In the first place, the
orifice which has been formed becomes rapidly larger, the surface-
tension which acts all round its edges and pulls the film away from
its centre tending to enlarge it. Secondly, the surface of the liquid is
necessarily very much curved all round the hole, and a greater press
ure is therefore excited at that part by the surface on the liquid
which forms the interior of the film than elsewhere. Hence the liquid
becomes heaped up around the hole into a ring which is thicker than
the rest of the bubble, though its thickness is very small compared
with the diameter of the hole. The liquid in the ring is thus in cir
cumstances somewhat similar to that in the long cylinder we have
already studied it undergoes a similar series of transformations and
is broken up into drops which are flung away from the bubble.
Another ring is instantly formed and as instantly broken, and the
process is repeated again and again with inconceivable rapidity, until
in a very small fraction of a second a little cloud, composed of the
numerous minute drops which have been formed, is all that remains
of the bubble.

I must now draw to a close. I have discussed with you, as well
as I could in the short space of time allotted to me, the history of a
bubble from its birth, in the bosom of the liquid, to its dissolution in
the air above. The facts and experiments I have brought to your
notice have been, I hope, in themselves sufficient to attract you ; but
I think they will acquire an additional interest if, before we part, I
tell you something about the man to w T hom we owe most of our knowl
edge on the subject of my lecture. I mean M. Plateau, the Professor
of Physics in the Belgian University of Ghent. This gentleman began
his studies on liquids when a young man, and was already well known
for his success in scientific investigation, when a misfortune overtook
him which one would have thought w r ould have put an end to his
further researches. He became hopelessly blind. A misfortune like

588 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

this would have crushed a weaker man ; but in the case of M. Plateau
it served to show the genuine metal he was made of. He spent
the long hours of darkness, not in useless repining, or vain regrets,
but in endeavoring to advance the knowledge of his race by pon
dering over the unsolved problems connected with the subjects he
understood so well, and in devising experiments, often of the most
exquisite ingenuity, for putting his theories and conclusions to the
test. These, which he could no longer perform for himself, were un
dertaken for him by a devoted band of friends, among whom was his
own son; and the result has been, not merely a very large addition to
our knowledge of the properties of the surfaces of liquids, but, what is
perhaps far more important, the presentation to the world of a spec
tacle of victory over almost overwhelming obstacles such as it has
seldom seen. It is. not well that our knowledge of scientific facts
should be entirely divorced from an acquaintance with the lives and
labors of their discoverers, or that we should come to regard them
simply as a sort of revelation made to a fortunate few, to the rich
inheritance of which we have been lucky enough to succeed. The
men who built up the pile of modern science were not of those who
sit still and wait with folded hands for some inspiration, they know
not whence ; rather they performed their tasks, and won success amid
difficulties and discouragements to which we in happier times are
strangers. But, while rightly ready to pay our homage to the great
achievements of the past, we should ever be watchful to honor duly
deeds which will cast a lustre upon our own time ; and among these
the life-work of M. PJateau holds in some respects a position sec
ond to none. Others may deserve a higher place for the number,
or practical or scientific importance, of their discoveries, but none
have more honestly earned the praise due to those who have done
what they could ; and the world, which is so apt to appropriate the
work and forget the worker, should be taught at all events to remem
ber this, that we owe some of the most charming experiments in the
whole range of physics to one who himself has never beheld many of
them, and of whom, with respect to the rest, we must in all sadness
say, he " shall see them again no more forever."

THE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION. 589

THE EVOLUTION OF HEBEEW KELIGION.

BY FELIX ADLEK,

PROFESSOR OF HEBREW LITERATURE IN CORNELL UNIVERSITY.

" Dana 1 opinion du peuple pour qui ces livres ont ete ecrits le point capital et essentiel
ii est certes pas la narration historique, mais bien la legislation et rectification religieuse." l

IN 1795, Frederick Augustus Wolf published a modest octavo vol
ume entitled " Prolegomena to Homer," from whose appearance
is dated the beginning of a new era of historic criticism. The com
position of the poems of Homer formed its subject. For wellnigh
twenty years the author had collected evidence, weighed arguments,
and patiently tested his results by constant revision. His own bias
was strongly engaged on the side of the unity of the great Grecian
epic. But the results of his researches continued to point in the
opposite direction, and at last his earnest devotion to truth compelled
him to adopt a theory the soundness of whose construction seemed
to be no longer questionable. He was thus worthy to become the
" founder of the science of philology in its present significance." a

The influence of Wolf s discovery was not confined to the study of
classic literature only. It quickly radiated through every department
of history. "In every singing age," he said, "a single saeculum is
almost like a single man. It is all one mind, one soul." 3 This con
ception involved a new social law, and radically altered the current
opinions concerning the relation of individual effort to the larger
forces that affect the development of nations. The creative energy
of remarkable minds was not, indeed, lessened in importance, but
spontaneity, in this connection, acquired a new meaning ; and for the
Deus ex machina of the olden time was substituted the cumulative
force of centuries of progressive advancement, culminating, it is true,
at last in the triumphant synthesis of genius. The commotion which
the Wolfian theory has stirred up in the literary world is largely due
to the wide range of ideas which it affected. Yet it was itself but a
part of that general movement which, toward the close of the last
century, became conspicuous in its effects on every field of human
inquiry. Everywhere the shackles of authority were thrown off, and,
in place of blindly accepting the testimony of the past, men turned to
investigate for themselves. A new principle of research was every
where acknowledged, a new method was created, and science, natural

1 " In the estimation of the people for whom these books were written, the capital,
essential point surely was, not the historic narrative, but rather legislation and religious
edification." (Noldeke, " Histoire Litteraire de 1 Ancien Testament," p. 19.)

8 Bonitz, " Ueber den Ursprung der Homerischen Gedichte," p. 11.

3 In a letter given in Korte s " Leben und Studien F. A. Wolfs," i., p. 307.

590

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and historical, entered upon that astonishing career of discovery
whose rich promise for the future we have but begun to anticipate. 1

To the impetus given by Wolf, and to the new-born spirit of sci
ence which he carried into the sphere of philology, we owe among
other valuable results the beginnings of a more critical inquiry into
the records of ancient Hebrew religion. Indeed, the author of the
" Prolegomena " himself clearly foresaw the influence which his book
was destined to exert on Hebrew studies. In a letter, from which we
have already quoted above, he says: "The demonstration that the
Pentateuch is made up of unequal portions, that these are the prod
ucts of different centuries, and that they were put together shortly
after the time of Solomon, may, ere long, be confidently expected. I
should myself be willing to undertake such an argument without fear,
for nowhere do we find any ancient witness to guarantee the author
ship of the Pentateuch to Moses himself." a

The prediction embodied in these words soon came true. A host
of competent scholars took up the study of the Hebrew Bible, and,
profiting by "Wolf s example and suggestions, applied to its elucida
tion the same careful methods, the same scrupulous honesty of in
terpretation, that had proved so successful in the realm of classical
philology. Theologians by profession, they set aside their predilec
tions, and placed the ascertainment of the truth above all other in
terests. They believed in the indestructible vitality of religion, and
were willing to admit the full light of criticism upon the scriptural
page, confident that any loss would be temporary only, the gain per
manent. In the course of their researches they arrived, among others,
at the following important conclusions:

That the editor of the Pentateuch had admitted into his volume
several accounts touching the main facts of early Hebrew history;
that these accounts are often mutually at variance ; that minute analy
sis and careful comparison alone can lead to an approximately true
estimate of their comparative value ; and, lastly, that the transmission
of historical information had in no wise been the object of the Hebrew
writers. The history of their people served, it is true, to illustrate
certain of their doctrines concerning the divine government of the
world, and especially the peculiar relations of the Deity to the chosen
race ; but it was employed much in the sense of a moral tale, being
designed, not to convey facts, but to enforce lessons. Had the accept-

1 Scientific pursuits are distinguished from others, not by the material, but by the
method of knowledge. The mere collection of data, however multiplied in detail, how
ever abstruse the subjects to which they may refer, does not of itself deserve the name
of science. The term properly applies only when phenomena are placed in causal
relation, and the laws which govern their development are traced. Measured by this
standard, every attempt to explain the growth of human thought and institutions, and to
elucidate the laws which have acted in the process of their evolution, has a just claim to
be classed under the head of scientific inquiry.

2 Letter in Kcirte s " Leben und Studien R A. Wolf s," L, p. 309.

TEE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION. 591

ance of any particular scheme of Hebrew history been deemed es
sential to the integrity of religious belief, the Bible, they argued,
would certainly not have included discrepant accounts of that history
in its pages. In the light of this new insight, it seemed advisable to
draw a distinction between the biblical narrative proper and the doc
trines which it was designed to illustrate. The latter belong to the
province of faith, and their treatment may be left to the expounders
of faith. The former is a department of general history, and in
dealing with it we are at liberty to apply the same canons of criti
cism that obtain in every other department, without fearing to tres
pass upon sacred ground. It is our purpose in the following pages to
present some of the more interesting results that have been reached
in the study of the Pentateuch, so far as they illustrate the evolution
of religious ideas among the Hebrews. We shall begin by sum
marizing a few instances of discrepant testimony to introduce our
subject, and, in particular, to show how little the ordinary purposes
of history have been considered in the composition of the biblical
writings ; how little the bare transmission of facts was an object
with the sacred authors. 1

Scripture opens with two divergent accounts of the creation. In
Genesis i., the work of creation proceeds in two grand movements,
including the formation of inanimte and animate Nature respectively."
On the first day a diffused light is spread out over chaos. Then are
made the firmament, the dry earth, the green herbs, and fruit-bearing
trees ; on the fourth day the great luminaries are called into being ;
on the fifth, the fishes and birds of the air; on the sixth, the beasts of
the field; and, lastly, crowning all, man, his Maker s masterpiece.
The human species enters at once upon its existence as a pair. "Male
and female did he create them." In the second chapter the same
methodical arrangement, the same deliberate progress from the lower
to the higher forms of being, is not observed. Man, his interests and
responsibilities, stand in the foreground of the picture. The trees of
the field are not made until after Adam ; and, subsequently to them,
the cattle and beasts. Moreover, man is a solitary being. A com
parison between his lonely condition and the dual existence of the re
mainder of the animal world leads the Deity to determine upon the
creation of woman. A profound slumber then falls upon Adam, a rib
is taken from his side, and from it Eve is fashioned. 8 We may notice
that the name Jehovah, as appertaining to the Deity, is employed in
the second chapter, while it is scrupulously avoided in the first. The

1 Many of the following examples are familiarly known. A few, however, are drawn
from recent investigations. Compare, especially, Kuenen, " The Religion of Israel."

2 Tuch s "Genesis," p. 3, second edition, Halle, 1871.

3 For an account of the close analogy between the biblical narration and the Persian,
story of Meshja and Meshjane, their temptation and fall, vide ibid., p. 40. It is of special
importance to note that reference to the account of Genesis ii. is made only in the later
literature of the Hebrews, ibid., p. 42.

592 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

recognition of this distinction has led to further discoveries of far-
reaching importance, but too complicated in their nature to be here
detailed. The conflicting statements of the two accounts, which we
have just indicated, have induced scholars to regard them as the work
of different writers. In Genesis iv. we learn that in the days of Enosh,
Adam s grandson, men began to call on the name of Jehovah ; in
Exodus vi., on the contrary, that the name Jehovah was first revealed
to Moses, being unknown even to the patriarchs.

Gen. xvi., Hagar is driven from her home by the jealousy of her
mistress ; escapes into the desert ; beholds a vision of God at a well in
a wilderness. Gen. xxi., the flight of Hagar is related a second
time. The general scheme of the narrative is the same as above ; but
there are important divergencies of detail. As narrated in chapter
xvi., the escape took place immediately before the birth of Ishmael.
Fifteen years elapsed, 1 and Ishmael, now approaching the years of ma
turity, is once more driven forth from the house of Abraham. But, to
our surprise, in chapter xxi. the lad is described as a mere infant ; he is
carried on his mother s shoulders, and laid away, like a helpless babe,
under some bushes by the wayside. It appears that we have before
us two accounts touching the same event, agreeing in the main inci
dents of the escape, but showing a disagreement of fifteen years as to
the date of its occurrence. The narratives are distinguished as above
by the employment of different names of the Deity : Jehovah in the
one instance, Elohim in the other.

Gen. xxxii., Jacob at the fords of Jabbok, after wrestling during
the night with a divine being, receives the name of Israel. Gen.
xxxv., without reference to the previous account, the name Israel is
conferred upon Jacob at a different place and under different circum
stances.

Gen. xlix., the dispersion of the Levites among the tribes is
characterized as a punishment and a curse. They are to be forever
homeless and fugitive. Deuteronomy xxxiii. and elsewhere, it is de
scribed as a blessing. The Levites have been scattered as good seed
over the land. They are the apostles, commissioned to propagate
Jehovah s law.

Passing on to the second book of the Pentateuch, we pause before
the account of the Revelation on Mount Sinai, beyond a doubt the
most important event of Israel s ancient history. Exodus xxiv. 2,
Moses alone is to approach the divine presence. Exod. xix. 24,
Aaron is to accompany him. Exod. xxiv. 13, Aaron is to remain be
low and Joshua is to go in his stead. Again, Exod. xxxiii. 20, instant
death will overtake him who beholds God. Exod. xxiv. 9-11,
Moses, Aaron, two of his sons, and seventy elders of Israel " ascended,
and they saw the God of Israel. . . . Also, they saw God, and did eat

1 Gen. xvii. 25. In quoting from the Old Testament, we follow the order of the
Hebrew text.

THE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION. 593

and drink." Once more, Exod. xxiv. 4-7, Moses himself writes down
the words of revelation in a book of covenant. Exod. xxiv. 12, not
Moses but God writes them ; and, elsewhere, " Two tables of stone in
scribed by the finger of God."

Exod. xx. enjoins the observance of the sabbath-day as a memorial
of the repose of the Maker of heaven and earth on the sabbath of crea
tion. Deut. v., the fourth commandment is enjoined because of the
redemption of Israel from Egyptian bondage. Exod. xxxiv., a new
version of the decalogue, differing in most respects from the one com
monly received, is promulgated. 1 The first commandment is to wor
ship no strange god ; the second, to make no graven images ; the
third, to observe the feast of unleavened bread ; the fourth, to deliver
the first-born unto Jehovah ; the fifth, to observe the sabbath, etc.

In Exod. xx. we read that the guilt of the fathers will be avenged
upon the children down even to the third and fourth generation ; in
Deut. xxiv., the children shall not die for their fathers. Every one
for his own sin shall die.

In Deut. xxv. the marrying of a deceased brother s wife is under
certain conditions enjoined as a duty. In Levit. xviii. it is uncon
ditionally prohibited as a crime.

Exod. xxxiii., Moses removes the tabernacle beyond the camp.
Num. ii., the tabernacle rests in the very heart of the camp, with all
the tribes of Israel grouped round about it, according to their stand
ards and divisions.

Num. xvi., the sons of Korah, the leader of the great Levitical
sedition, perish with their father. Num. xxvi., the sons of Korah do
not perish. 2

Of the forty years which the Israelites are said to have dwelt in
the desert, not more than two are covered by the events of the nar
rative. The remainder are wrapped in dense obscurity. There is,
however, a significant fact which deserves mention in this connection.
The death of Aaron marks, as it were, the close of Israel s- journey.
Now, while in Num. xxxiii. the death of the high-priest is described
as occurring in the fortieth year, in Deut. x. it is actually referred to
the second year of the Exodus. 8

A brief digression beyond the borders of the Pentateuch will show

1 Compare De Wette s " Einleitung in das alte Testament " (Schrader s edition), p.
286, note 53.

9 Num. xxvi. 11. Indeed, had the sons of Korah and every human being related to
him perished, as Num. xvi. avers, how could we account for the fact that Korah s de
scendants filled high offices in the Temple at Jerusalem later on ? The celebrated singer,
Heman, himself was a lineal descendant of Korah. To the descendants of Korah also
are ascribed the following Psalms : Ps. xlii., xliv.-xlix., Ixxxiv., Ixxxv., Ixxxvii., Ixxxviii.

3 In connection with this subject it is of interest to compare Goethe s argument on the
duration of the desert journey in the " Westostlicher Divan." Here, as in so many other
instances, the intuitive perception of the great poet anticipated the tardy results of sub
sequent investigation.

vor.. ix. 38

594 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that the conflict of testimony which we have thus far noticed, affect
ing as it does some of the leading events of ancient Hebrew history,
does not diminish as we proceed in the narrative. In 1 Samuel vii.
it is said that the Philistines ceased to harass the land of Israel all
the days of Samuel. Immediately thereupon we read of new Philis
tine incursions more direful than ever in their consequences. 1 The
popular proverb, "Is Saul among the prophets?" is variously ex
plained, 1 Sam. x. and xix. Two discrepant accounts are given of
Saul s rejection from the kingdom, 1 Sam. xiii. and xv. ; of David s
introduction to Saul, 1 Sam. xvi. and xvii. The charming story of
David s encounter with the giant Goliath told in 1 Sam. xvii. is
contradicted in 2 Sam. xxi. 19, where, not David, but some person
otherwise unknown to fame, is reported to have slain the giant Goli
ath, and also the time, place, and attendant circumstances, are differ
ently related. 2

It thus appears that the compiler of the Pentateuch has admitted
a variety of views, not only on the ancient history of his people,
but also on the general subject of religion and morals, into his work;
and that the discordant opinions of diverse authors and of diverse
stages of human progress are reflected in its pages. It is the monu
ment of a grand religious movement extending over many centuries
of gradual development. It is the image of a nation s struggles and
growth. As contained in the books of the Pentateuch, the Mosaic
religion is a religious mosaic.

In the foregoing sketch we have observed how deep a mist of un
certainty hangs over the earliest period, the golden age of the history
of the Hebrews. All is in a state of flux, and what appeared com
pact and coherent at a distance yields to our touch upon closer con
tact. To gain terra firma, let us turn to the period which immedi
ately succeeded the settlement of the Israelites in Palestine ; a period
in which the outline of historical events begins to assume a more
definite and tangible shape.

It was a dismal and sorrowful age. The bonds of social order
were loosened ; the current conceptions of the Deity and the rites of
his worship were gross and often degrading. Mutual jealousies kin
dled the firebrand of war among the contending clans. Almost the
whole tribe of Benjamin is extirpated. Abimelech slays seventy
princes upon one stone. Lust and treachery run riot. A wilder
deed has never been chronicled in the annals of mankind than that
related in chapter xix. of Judges, nor ever has a terrible deed been
more terribly avenged. Now, looking backward, we ask, Is it to be
believed that in the fourteenth century B. c. not only the leader of

1 Compare 1 Sam. vii. 13, and 1 Sam. xiii. 19.

8 In 1 Chron. xx. 5 we read, " the brother of Goliath." The purpose of the change
is clear, and accords well with the apologetical tendencies of the author of Chronicles.
Vide De Wette, " Einleitung," etc., p. 370. Geiger, " Urschrift."

THE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION. 595

Israel, but also their elders, their priests, nay, large numbers even of
the very populace, shared in the most exalted, the most spiritual con
ceptions of God, and nourished the most refined sentiments in regard
to human relationships, while immediately thereupon, and centuries
thereafter, violence, and bloodshed, and idolatry, do not cease from
the records? It has been argued, indeed, that the worship of idols
was but a relapse from the purity of a preceding age ; and that, thoug h
the tradition of the Mosaic time may have been lost in the succeeding
period among the people at large, it was still preserved in the circle of
a select few, the judges, King David, and others. These, it is believed,
continued to remain faithful disciples of the great lawgiver. But
these very men, the judges King David himself all fall immeasura
bly below the standard which is set up in the Pentateuch. If they
were esteemed the true representatives of the national religion in
their day, if the very points in which they transgressed the provi
sions of the Mosaic code are distinguished by the approval of God
and man, we are forced to conclude that that standard by which
they stand condemned did not yet exist ; that, in the days of David,
the laws of Moses, as we now have them, were as yet unwritten and
unknown. Let us illustrate this important point by a few examples
taken from the records. Gideon no sooner returns from victory than
he makes a golden idol and sets it up for worship. Jephthah slays
his daughter as an offering of thanksgiving to Jehovah. In the Pen
tateuch the adoration of images is branded as the gravest of offenses.
David keeps household gods in his own home (1 Sam. xix.). In the
Pentateuch, on its opening page, God is proclaimed as a pure spirit,
maker of heaven and earth. In the eyes of David (1 Sam. xxvi. 19),
the sway of Jehovah does not extend beyond the borders of Pales
tine. 1 In the Pentateuch the ark of the covenant is described as the
treasury of all that is brightest and best in the worship of the
one God. None but the consecrated priest dare approach it, and
even he only under circumstances calculated to inspire peculiar ven
eration and awe. In 2 Sam. vi., David abandons the ark to the keep
ing of a heathen Philistine. In an early stage of culture, when fear
and terror in the presence of superior force entered largely into the
religious conceptions of the Hebrews, the taking of the census was
deemed an act of grave transgression. It appeared a vaunting of
one s strength ; it seemed to indicate a defiant attitude toward the
lofyier power of the Deity, which he would certainly visit with con
dign punishment. At a later period the priesthood found it in their
interest to override these scruples, and the taking of the census be
came an affair of habitual occurrence. In the last chapter of Samuel
the more primitive view still predominated. Seventy thousand Israel
ites are miserably slain to atone for King David s presumption in
commanding a census of the people. In the fourth book of Moses, on
1 Banishment being described as a transfer of allegiance to strange gods.

50 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the other hand, the numbering of the people not only proceeds with
out the slightest evil resulting therefrom, but at the express command
of God himself.

In the book of Deuteronomy the service of Jehovah is said to con
sist mainly in the practice of righteousness, in works of kindness
toward our fellows, in sincere and holy love toward the Deity, who is
represented as the merciful father of all his human children. 2 Sam.
xxi., a famine comes upon the land of Israel. The anger of Jehovah
is kindled against the people. To appease him, David offers sacrifice
human sacrifice. The seven sons of Saul are slain, and their
bodies kept exposed on the hill, " in the sight of Jehovah," and the
horrid offering is accepted, and the divine wrath is thereby pacified. 1
Truly, in the age of David, the Hebrews were far, far removed from
that high state of culture in which the ideal conception of religion
that pervades Deuteronomy became possible. And long after, when
centuries had gone by and the kingdom of Judah was already ap
proaching its dissolution, the direful practices of David s reign still
survived, and the root of idolatry had not been plucked from the
heart of the people. Still do we hear of human sacrifice perpetrated
in the midst of Jerusalem, and steeds and chariots dedicated to the
sun-god, and images of the Phallus, and all the abominations of sen
sual worship, filled the very Temple of Jehovah.

But in the mean time a new force had entered the current of
Hebrew history. The conviction that one God, and lie an all-just,
almighty being, rules the destinies of Israel, began to take root. In
the eighth century B. c. authentic records prove that monotheism, as a
form of religious belief, obtained, at least among the more illustrious
members of the prophetic order. We have elsewhere attempted to
trace the causes which led to the rise of monotheism at this particu
lar epoch, and shall do no more than briefly allude to them here.

When the mountaineers of Southern Palestine, after centuries of
protracted struggle, had secured the safe possession of individual
homes, the endearments of domestic life were invested with a sanctity
in their eyes never before known. The attachment of the Hebrew
toward his offspring was intensified ; his devotion to the wife of his
bosom became purer and more enduring. Now, the prevailing forms
of Semitic religion outraged these feelings at every point. The gods
of the surrounding nations were gods of pleasure and of pain ; and in
their worship the stern practices of fanatic asceticism alternated with
the wildest orgies of sensual enjoyment. The worship of Baal Moloch
demanded the sacrifice of children ; that of the lascivious Baaltis in-

1 It is important to note that the seven sons of Saul were sacrificed in the begin
ning of the barley-harvest. This circumstance seems to throw light on the primitive
mode of celebrating the Passover. That the rite of human sacrifice was originally con
nected with this festival is generally acknowledged. Vide, e. g., Exod. xiii., 2. By such
offerings it was intended, no doubt, to secure the favor of the god during the continuance
of the harvest.

THE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION. 597

suited the modesty of woman. The nobler spirits among the Hebrews
rebelled against both these demands. And, as they were put forth
in the name of the dominant religion, the inevitable conclusion fol
lowed that that religion itself must be radically wrong. The spirit of
opposition thus awakened was aroused into powerful activity when,
in the days of Ahab, the queen, supported by an influential priest
hood, determined to introduce the forms of Phoenician religion in
Israel by measures of force. The royal edicts were resisted, but for a
while the rule of the stronger prevailed. The leaders of the oppo
sition were compelled to flee, and, avoiding the habitations of men, to
take refuge in wild and solitary places. Thus the rupture was widened
into schism, and persecution inflamed the zeal and kindled the ener
gies of that new order of men of whom Elijah is the well-known type.

Through their agency the emotional nature of the Semitic race
now found expression in a form of religious worship loftier by far
than any that had ever arisen among men. If Baal was the embodi
ment of Semitic asceticism and Baaltis the type of sensual orgiastic
passion, the national God of Israel now became the type of a nobler
emotion, the guardian of domestic purity, the source of sanctity, the
ideal Father. It is, indeed, the image of .a just patriarch that fills the
mind and wings the fancy of the eldest prophets, when they describe
the nature of Jehovah, their God. Jehovah is the husband of the
people. Israel shall be his true and loyal spouse. The children of
Israel are his children. Unchastity and irreligion are synonymous
terms. And thus, if we err not, the peculiar feature of Hebrew char
acter, their faithful attachment to kith and kin, the strength and
purity of their domestic affections, serves to explain the peculiar char
acter, the origin and development of the Hebrew religion. And be
cause the essential elements of the new religion w^ere moral elements
it could not tolerate the Nature-worship of the heathens ; and the
way was prepared for the gradual ascendency of the purely spiritual
in religion, which after ages of gradual progress constituted the last,
the lasting triumph of prophecy.

After ages of development ! For we are not to suppose that, in
the centuries succeeding Hosea, the doctrines of the prophetic schools
had become in any sense the property of the people at large. " The
powers that be " were arrayed against them, and the annals of the
kings are replete with evidence of their sufferings. It was in the late
reign of Josiah that they at last received not only the countenance
of the reigning monarch, but also a decisive influence upon the direc
tion of affairs. In that reign a scroll was found in the temple imbued
with the doctrine of the unity of God, and breathing the vigorous
spirit of the prophets. In it was emphasized the heart s religion in
preference to the empty ceremonial of priestly worship. The alle
giance of the people was directed toward the God w r ho had elected
them from among the nations of the earth, and dire disaster was pre-

59 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

dieted in case of disobedience. When brought to the king and read
in his presence, he was powerfully affected, and determined, if possi
ble, to stem the tide of impending ruin by such salutary measures of
reform as the injunctions of the newly-found Scripture seemed most
urgently to call for. The concurrence of many critics has identified
this scroll, written and published at or about the time when the
youthful Josiah succeeded to the throne of his ancestors, with Deu
teronomy, the fifth of the books of Moses. It differs materially from
the more recent writings of the Pentateuch. The family of Aaron are
not yet exclusively endowed with the priesthood. The priests are all
Levites, the Levites all priests. There are, moreover, other vital dif
ferences, into which the limits of this article do not permit us to
enter. 1 The date of the composition of Deuteronomy is thus referred
to the closing decades of the seventh century B. c. a

The princes who succeeded Josiah fell back into the old course,
and quite undid the work which had begun with such fair promise.
Indeed, little permanent good was to be hoped for in so disordered a
condition of political affairs, and from the degenerate rulers who then
swayed the helm of state. The fortunes of the kingdom of Judah
were swiftly declining, and, but a quarter of a century after the pious
Josiah had breathed his last, Nebuchadnezzar burned the Temple of
Jerusalem, and carried its inhabitants captive to Babylon.

Heretofore, with but a brief, brilliant interlude, idolatry had been
the court religion of Judah. Early training, long usage, the example
of revered ancestors, had endeared its forms and symbols to the affec
tions of the people. Resistance to the innovating prophets was natural ;
men being then, as ever, loath to abandon the sacred usages which had
come down to them from the distant generations of the past. But, in
the long years of the captivity, a profound change came over the spirit
of the Hebrew people ; " by Babel s streams they sat and wept;" by
Babel s streams they recalled the memories of their native land, that
laud which they had lost. It was then that the voices of Jehovah s
messengers, which had so earnestly warned them of the approaching
doom, recurred to their startled recollection. They remembered the
message; they beheld its fulfillment ; the testimony of the prophets
had been confirmed by events ; the one God to whom they testified
had revealed his omnipotence in history ; and with willing assent the
exiles promised allegiance to his commandments in the future. The
love of country, the dread of further chastisement, the dear hope of
restoration, combined to win them to the purer worship of their God,
and, in the crucible of Babylon, the national religion was purged of
the last dregs of heathendom.

1 E. g., the rebellion of Korah is unknown to the author of Deuteronomy.

2 The language of Deuteronomy attests its late origin. Sixty-six phrases of Deuteron
omy recur in the writings of Jeremiah. Vide Zunz, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgcn-
landischen Gescllschaft, xxviii., p. 670.

THE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION. 599

With the permission of Cyrus, the Jews returned to Palestine, and
the Temple at Jerusalem was rebuilt. The question now arose in
what forms the ceremonial of the new sanctuary should be conducted.
The time-honored festivals, the solemn and joyful convocations, the sac
rifices and purifications of the olden time, were all more or less infected
with the taint of paganism. Prophecy would have none of them
prophecy, free child of genius, contemned sacrifice, denounced the
priesthood, even the temple and its ritual ; 1 proclaimed humbleness
and loving-kindness as the true service in which Jehovah takes de
light. There was formalism on the one hand, idealism on the other.
As is usual in such cases, when the time had arrived for turning theory
into practice, it was found necessary to effect a compromise. As
Christianity in later days adopted the yule-tree into its system, and
lit the lamps of the heathen festival of the 25th of December in honor
of the nativity of its founder, so the leaders of the Jews, in the fifth
century before our era, adopted the feasts and usages of an ancient
Nature-worship, breathed into them a new spirit, informed them with
a loftier meaning, and made them tokens, symbols of the eternal God.
The old foes were thus reconciled ; priesthood and prophecy joined
hands, and were thenceforth united. As an offspring of this union,
we behold a new code of laws and prescriptions, whose marked and
inharmonious features at once betray the dual nature of its progeni
tors. " A rough preliminary draft, as it were," of this code, is pre
served in the book of Ezekiel, composed probably about the middle
of the fifth century. In its finished and final shape, it forms the bulk
of a still later work of Leviticus, the third of the books of the Penta
teuch : of all the discoveries of criticism, none more noteworthy, none
we are bound to consider more assured. What lends additional cer
tainty to the result is the circumstance that it was reached indepen
dently by two of the most esteemed scholars of our day, the one a
Professor of Theology in the University of Leyden, 2 the other a vet
eran of thought, whose brow is wreathed by the ripe honors of more
than fourscore years. 8 Let us briefly advert to the line of argument
by which this astonishing conclusion was reached :

The author of the book of Ezekiel was a priest, and one confessedly
loyal to the sanctuary of Jerusalem. Now, had the laws of the Leviti-
cal code, which minutely describe the ritual of that sanctuary, existed,
or been regarded as authoritative in his day, he could not, would not
have disregarded, much less contradicted, their provisions. He does
this, and, be it remarked, in points of capital importance. In chap
ter xlv. of Ezekiel are mentioned the great festivals, with the sacrifices
appropriate to each ; but the feast of Pentecost, commanded in Leviti
cus, is entirely omitted ; also that of the eighth day of tabernacles.
The second of the daily burnt-offerings, upon which the legislator of

1 Jeremiah vii. 4; Isaiah Ixvi. 1 ; Micah vi. 6. 8 Prof. A. Kucnen.

3 The venerable Dr. Zunz, of Berlin.

6oo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the fourth book of Moses dwells with such marked emphasis, is not
commanded. The order of sacrifices appointed in Ezekiel is at va
riance with that in the more recent code. Ezekiel nowhere mentions
the ark of the covenant. According to him, the new year begins on
the tenth of the seventh month, while the festival of the trumpets, or
dained in Leviticus for the first of that month (the present new year
of the Jews), is nowhere referred to. We are not to suppose, however,
that the festivals, the ark, etc., did not yet exist in the time of Eze
kiel. They existed, no doubt, but were still too intimately associated
with pagan customs and superstitions to receive or merit the coun
tenance of a prophetic writer. In Leviticus the process of assimila
tion above described had reached its climax. The new meaning had
been successfully engrafted upon the rites and symbols of the olden
time ; and they were thenceforth freely employed. The legislation
of the Levitical code exhibits the familiar features which in every
instance mark the ascendency or consolidation of the hierarchical
order. The lines of gradation and distinction between the members
of the order among themselves are precisely drawn and strictly ad
hered to. The prerogatives of the whole order as against the people
are fenced about with stringent laws. The revenues of the order are
largely increased. In the older code of Deuteronomy, the annual tithes
were set apart for a festival occasion, and given over to the enjoyment
of the people. In the new code, the hierarchy claims the tithes for its
own use. New taxes are invented. The best portions of the sacri
ficial animal are reserved for the banquets of the Temple. The first
born of men and cattle belong to the priesthood, and must be ran
somed by the payment of a sum of money. In no period prior to the
fifth century B. c. was the hierarchy powerful enough to design such
laws. At that time, however, when in the absence of a temporal sov
ereign they, with the high-priest at their head, were the acknowledged
rulers of the state, they were both prepared to conceive and able to
carry them into effect. The language of Leviticus contributes not a
little to betray its late origin. 1 The authorship of Moses attributed
to the Levitical code is symbolical. The name of Moses is utterly
unknown to the elder prophets. In all their manifold writings it does
not occur a single time, though they make frequent reference to the
past. There can now be little doubt that the composition of the bulk
of Leviticus, and of considerable portions of the books of Numbers,
Exodus, and even parts of Genesis, belongs to the epoch of the second
Temple, and that the date of these writings may be approximately
fixed at about one thousand years after the time of Moses. As to the
story of Israel s desert wanderings, it rests upon ancient traditions

1 To mention only a single instance, ha Shem (meaning the name, i. e., the ineffable
name of God) was not employed until a very late period in the history of the Jews, when
the fear of taking the name of the Lord in vain induced men to avoid, if possible, men
tioning it at all. We find ha Shem in the above sense in Lev. xxiv. 11.

THE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION. 601

whose character it is not our present business to investigate. It was
successively worked up in various schools of priests and prophets, and
this accounts for the host of discrepancies it contains, some of which
have been noticed in the beginning of this essay. It was finally am
plified by the inventive genius of the second-Temple priesthood,
who succeeded in heightening the sanctity of their own institu
tions by tracing them back to a revered, heroic person, who had
lived in the dim days of remote antiquity.

In the preceding pages we have indicated the more important
phases of that great conflict which ended in the establishment of
monotheism, whose traces, though sometimes barely legible, are still
preserved in our records. We saw in the first instance that the
Mosaic age is shrouded in uncertainty. We pointed out that pure
monotheism was unknown in the time of the early kings. We briefly
referred to the rise of monotheism. Finally, w r e endeavored to show
how the prophetic idea had been successively expressed in various
.codes, each corresponding to a certain stage in the great process of
evolution. From what we have said, it follows that the prophetic ideal
of religion is the root and core of all that is valuable in the Hebrew
Bible. The laws, rites, and observances, in which it found a tem
porary and changeful expression, may lose their vitality ; it will always
continue to exert its high influence. It was not the work of one
man, nor of a single age, but was reached in the long course of gen
erations on generations, evolved amid error and vice, slowly, and
against all the odds of time. It has been said that the Bible is
opposed to the theory of evolution. The Bible itself is a prominent
example of evolution in history. It is not homogeneous in all its
parts. There are portions filled with tales of human error and falli
bility. These are the incipient stages of an early age the dark and
dread beginnings. There are others thrilling with noblest emotion,
freighted with eternal truths, breathing celestial music. These are
the triumph and the fruition of a later day. It is thus by discriminat
ing between what is essentially excellent and what is comparatively
valueless that we shall best reconcile the discordant claims of reason
and of faith. The Bible was never designed to convey scientific in
formation, nor was it intended to serve as a text-book of history. In
its ethical teachings lies its true significance. On them it may fairly
rest its claims to the immortal reverence of mankind.

There was a time in the olden days of Greece when it was de
manded that the poems of Homer should be removed from the schools,
lest the minds of the young might be poisoned by the weeds of super
stitious belief. Plato, the poet-philosopher, it was who urged this
demand. That time is past. The tales of the gods and heroes have
long since ceased to entice our credulity. The story of Achilles s
wrath and the wanderings of the sage Ulysses are not believed as
history, but the beauty and freshness and the golden poetry of the

602 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Homeric epic have a reality all their own, and are a delight and a
glory now, as they have ever been before. The Bible also is a clas
sical book. It is the classical book of noble ethical sentiment. In it
the mortal fear, the overflowing hope, the quivering longings of the
human soul toward the better and the best, have found their first,
their freshest, their fittest utterance. In this respect it can never be
superseded.

To Greek philosophy we owe the evolution of the logical catego
ries ; to Hebrew prophecy, the pure canon of moral principle and ac
tion. That this result was the outcome of a long process of suffering
and struggle cannot diminish its value in our estimation. When
we compare the degrading offices of the Hebrew religion in the days
of the judges with the lofty aspirations of the second Isaiah, when
we remember the utter abyss of moral abasement from which the
nobler spirits of the Hebrews rose to the free summits of prophecy,
our confidence in the divine possibilities of the human soul is rein-
vigorated, our emulation is kindled, and from the great things already
accomplished we gather the cheering promise of the greater things
that are yet to come. It is in this moral incentive that the practical
value of the evolutionary theory chiefly lies. 1

PKESENT STATUS OF SOCIAL SCIENCE KEPLY
TO A CEITIC.

BY EOBEET S. HAMILTON.

WHEN a periodical of such wide circulation and deservedly high
reputation as THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY disparages an
author by its criticism, silence on his part might reasonably be con
strued into acquiescence in its justness. It is, therefore, hoped that
this reply to a criticism on the late work, published by H. L. Hinton
& Co., on " The Present Status of Social Science," which appeared in
that monthly for May, 1874, will not be denied a place in the same
columns that allowed the criticism.

The main accusation preferred against the book and it is almost
the only one is, that it Is " an old book," and of " an antiquated
character."

It may not be out of place here to remind our critic that some of the

1 Most aptly has this thought been expressed in the lines with which Goethe wel
comed the appearance of F. A. Wolfs " Prolegomena : "

" Erst die Gesundheit des Marines, der, endlich vom Namen Homeros
Kiihn uns befreiend, uns auch fiihrt in die vollere Bahn.
Derm wer wagte mit GOttern den Karapf ? und wer mit dern Einen ?
Doch Homeride zu seyn, auch nur als letzter, ist echOn."

The Elegy of Hermann und Dorothea.

PRESENT STATUS OF SOCIAL SCIENCE. 603

oldest books in the world are among the most valuable, that age does
not necessarily detract from the real merit of a book, or of any truth
it may advocate, any more than it does from the quality of wine, or
of ancient, long-tried, long-approved friendship, that an old truth is
even better than a new error, and that one of the highest and most im
portant functions of the philosopher, in every age, is to reconcile the
new with the old, to harmonize the latest revelations of science with
the venerable traditions and immutable ideas of the race ; in short, to
keep mankind constant, and bring them back to the old landmarks,
the primary and fundamental truths, from which they have a constant
tendency to wander off and go astray. Perhaps it might not be amiss,
furthermore, to remind him that the present age, more than any other,
and especially this department of science, require to be admonished
with the warning proverb of Solomon, "Remove not the ancient land
marks which thy fathers have set."

But with what propriety can a book be called old, or antiquated
in character, that deals almost exclusively, and that, too, with almost
unqualified approbation and accord, with the views of such recent and
highly-advanced thinkers as Guizot and Hallam, Sismondi and Mill,
Cousin, Buckle, Comte, and Herbert Spencer ?

If the book in question is old, all that Herbert Spencer has written
on sociology is likewise old. If there is nothing new in this book,
there is nothing new in any of the reasonings, on society, of that
Magnus Apollo, we might almost say, that alter ego, of THE POPULAR
SCIENCE MONTHLY. We challenge our critic to produce a single idea
of Herbert Spencer s, having any important bearing on the philosophy
of society, and any claim to be considered at all new, either in his
" Social Statics," or any other of his works, that is not contained in the
" Present Status of Social Science," either in direct expression, or in
fair, direct, and inevitable logical sequence, from what is directly ex
pressed. Will our critic accept the challenge, with the privilege of
only a brief reply accorded to a misrepresented and much-wronged
author ? We hardly think so.

The truth rather seems to be, that the work in question contains
rather too much about Mr. Spencer and his philosophy of society. It
contains, substantially, not only all that is true or essentially valuable
in the suggestions of that great and eminently valuable thinker, up to
the present time, but something that is not so valuable or true. It
contains, in short, a rather too caustic, possibly too just, and unan
swerable criticism on his extreme and exaggerated applications of the
laissez-faire doctrine, and upon his fantastical reasonings about " the
evanescence of evil." It takes too just exceptions to his condemna
tion of any and all provision, by the state, for the relief of the poor,
or even for their education.

But the. plea of our critic, which is plausible only on its face, is,
that it was unfair, unjust, thus to attack. Mr. Spencer, when his views

604 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

had not as yet been fully presented to the world. On this point,
which is the main point, he says : " An example of the antiquated
and unreliable character of the work is afforded by the author s treat
ment of the most eminent thinker of the times on problems of social
science. Mr. Herbert Spencer is judged as a sociologist by his views
developed in Social Statics ; how justly will appear from the fact that
Social Statics was Mr. Spencer s first work, published twenty-four
years ago. And not only this, but he was so dissatisfied with it that
he would not consent to its republication in this country without in
corporating a preface, which indicated that his views had undergone
important modifications."

Now, what does our critic mean by the equivocal expression,
"Mr. Spencer is judged," etc., "by his views expressed in * Social
Statics ? " Does he mean that he has been judged in part, or alto
gether and solely, by his " Social Statics ? " If the former only, what
is the ground of complaint ? What more fair, or just, than that an
author should be judged, in part, by a part of his performance, by one
of his most formal and elaborate works ? If he means the latter, then
he is greatly mistaken, and grossly misrepresents the author. Mr.
Spencer is judged in the work in question, not only by his " Social
Statics," but by his brilliant article on " The Social Organism," to be
found in his " Illustrations of Universal Progress," by his truly great
work on " First Principles," in which are contained some of his most
valuable thoughts on sociology, 1 and to some and not unimportant
extent, also, by his " Principles of Biology," and other writings.

And now to the main point of the criticism, its very citadel,
which, briefly rendered, is, that Mr. Spencer has been judged, at least
to a very large and important extent, by a work which he has virtu
ally retracted or disclaimed, in some of its essential doctrines. On
this point, as will be seen, the critic expresses himself with a very
cautious reserve, gently insinuating, merely, what he could hardly
venture directly to assert. In reference to the preface, which Mr.
Spencer insisted on incorporating with the republication of the " So
cial Statics," in this country, he says it " indicated that his views had
undergone important modifications."

Now, we must beg leave, most respectfully but most emphatically,
to dissent from the critic s interpretation of Mr. Spencer s preface in
question, and to say that it indicated, very clearly, that his views
had undergone only some slight and unimportant modifications. The
precise words of Mr. Spencer s preface, on this point, are " some ac
companying modifications." But the whole context conclusively de
monstrates that " those modifications " were not important, not mate
rial, in respect to the essential or substantial import of his ideas.

He begins his preface by saying he would not have the American
public to take this work as " a literal expression " of his present
1 See "Present Status," etc., pp. 126-128, or chapter vi., 12.

PRESENT STATUS OF SOCIAL SCIENCE. 605

views. He proceeds to say that DOW, after the lapse of fourteen
years, were he writing out his thoughts on the subject, he would ex
press himself somewhat differently on several specified points. Then
by way of excusing himself from rewriting his views, and of showing
the little importance of his doing so, he concludes his preface with
these conclusive words, expressing himself in the third person :
" When, however, he comes to the closing volumes of this system,
should he ever get so far, he proposes to set forth in them the devel
oped conclusions of which Social Statics must be considered a rough
sketch." What more conclusive proof could we need that " Social
Statics " was still, then and there, a substantial embodiment of his
views ?

The critic says that the author of the work in question appears to
have " an obscure conception of social science," etc. It is to be re
membered, however, that social science is a very large science, sus
ceptible of very diverse renditions, or modes of consideration, and
that, when viewed, as it is by Mr. Spencer and his especial admirers,
from the lofty standpoint of universal science, it would be likely to
present somewhat different points of prominence for scientific con
sideration from those it would present from the far less ambitious
standpoint from which it is viewed by the author in question the
standpoint of the practical statesman and jurist.

By way of illustrating the fairness and justness of his criticism,
the critic quotes an isolated passage from the work under his consid
eration, which, unexplained, and rent from its context, would appear
only as Greek, Hebrew, or Sanscrit, to the general reader; a passage
in which*, after the example of Mr. Spencer himself, and other modern
scientists, the author had casually drawn on astronomical science for
illustration, and instituted a similitude between the forces of cosmical
and social life. But was that a really fair selection ? What would our
critic think if any one should undertake to judge Mr. Spencer, either
as a sociologist or a general scientist, solely by his fundamental postu
late that all evolution is from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous f

The critic would have conveyed to his readers a far more just idea
of the scope and real character of the work under his review a mere
preliminary work as it is if he had seen fit to quote the seven propo
sitions laid down in the author s sixth chapter, embodying, as they
claim to do, the essential import of all the most recent and most ad
vanced thought in social philosophy; nay, embodying, in outline, the
very quintessence of Mr. Spencer s peculiar views, with the addition
of only a few highly-important ideas, which he seems to have either
overlooked or undervalued.

And here it may be proper to remark that there is no essential
antagonism between Mr. Spencer and the author who has incurred
the displeasure of THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. On fundamental
principles, and in the general drift of their reasonings, likewise, they

6o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

are in almost perfect accord co-laborers in the same great field
endeavoring to compass it only by different methods.

While Mr. Spencer is tugging at the vast problems of social
science from the standpoint of the universal scientist, the author in
question is viewing them more directly from the standpoint of the
specialist in sociology and more particularly in the department of
statesmanship seeking and deriving valuable instruction from the
vast generalizations of his more able and far more learned co-laborer.

Can it be supposed, however, that the two laborers will not differ,
somewhat, in some of their practical applications of the very same
general principles which they hold in common ? Or need it be won
dered at that, while Mr. Spencer would abolish the state school and
state provision for the poor, the author in question would rather re
model and enlarge the scope of both, while admitting and appreciat
ing the great abuses and mischiefs that may result from either ?

Does not the very loftiness of Mr. Spencer s standpoint, the grand
eur of his views, and the vast and far-reaching comprehensiveness
of his observations, make it impossible, despite his great and indis
putable sagacity, to avoid some mistakes in respect to the great
practical problems of social life, and to escape altogether the error,
so common with our modern reformers, of seeking to abolish institu
tions that need only amendment and reform ?

In conclusion, let the hope be expressed that "the antiquated
character" of this reply will find excuse in the fact that, although
the privilege of making it was solicited early in June, 1874, it was
not accorded until late in October following, when the author, in de
spair of obtaining justice, or a fair hearing, at least in this country,
had abandoned all idea of replying. Weeks and even months then
elapsed before the purpose of doing so revived in his mind, under the
conviction that such a course was due, not only to himself, but to the
momentous theme, which he has made the theme of his life, and on
which he feels a strong assurance that he has some suggestions to
offer, some great universal truths, great fundamental laics of social
life, to announce, that are calculated to exert an important influence
on the cause of knowledge and human advancement.

CINCINNATI, February 22, 1875.

SKETCH OF PEOF. WILLIAM B. EOGEES.

THE President of the American Association for the Advancement
of Science, who presides at its meeting this year in Buffalo, be
longs to a family which has attained eminent distinction in the field
of American science. He was born in Philadelphia, in December,
1805, and is the second of four sons James Blythe, WILLIAM BAK-

SKETCH OF PROF. WILLIAM B. ROGERS. 607

TON, Henry Darwin, and Robert Empeie Rogers, all of whom have
won celebrity as scientific teachers and investigators, and of whom
William and Robert alone survive.

Their father, Patrick Kerr Rogers, was a man of varied attain
ments, and an enthusiastic student and teacher of natural science,
who, besides lecturing to medical classes, was among the first in this
country to establish systematic courses of instruction in chemistry
and experimental physics for the general public. His sons were edu
cated chiefly at home under his immediate care, the elder continuing
their studies at William and Mary College, their father having been
appointed Professor of Natural Philosophy and Chemistry in that
institution.

When twenty-one years of age, William gave his first lectures on
science in the Maryland Institute, Baltimore, and the following year
was appointed to succeed his father in William and Mary College,
where he remained until 1835. He was then appointed to the chair
of Natural Philosophy in the University of Virginia, and there ex
tended his instructions by adding the subjects mineralogy and geol
ogy to his course. The same year he organized the geological sur
vey of the State, having, while a professor at William and Mary,
begun his geological labors with an examination of the Tertiary
region, of which he published, in conjunction with his brother, Henry
D. Rogers, two memoirs in the " Transactions of the American Philo
sophical Society." At this time, besides other chemical researches, he
made an analysis of the waters of the Virginia mineral springs, the
results of which have appeared in various publications.

He remained at the head of the geological survey until it was dis
continued in 1842, having published a; series of annual reports and
collected further materials, for the completion and publication of
which, however, no provision was made by the State. While at the
university he published for the use of his students a short treatise on
the "Strength of Materials" (Charlottesville, 1838), and a volume
on " The Elements of Mechanical Philosophy " (Boston, 1852). Dur
ing this period of his life, besides the cares of his professorship and
of the survey, he occupied himself with original researches in various
departments of science, partly geological, in connection with his field-
work, and, after the survey ended, chiefly in chemistry and physics.

In 1840 the "Association of American Geologists and Natural
ists " was organized. In this society, embracing Hitchcock, Hale,
Vanuxem, the four brothers Rogers, Conrad, Emmons, and others,
engaged in active scientific research, Prof. Rogers took a leading part,
as will be seen by referring to the volume of its " Transactions "
(1S40- J 42), to which he contributed among other articles the following
memoirs : " On the Age of the Coal-Rocks of Eastern Virginia ; "
" On the Connection of Thermal Springs with Anticlinal Axes and
Faults ; " " Observations of Subterranean Temperature in the Coal-

6o8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Mines of Eastern Virginia ; " and " On the Physical Structure of the
Appalachian Chain," etc. In the first of these papers Prof. Rogers
showed that the formation in question, instead of being of an age
anterior to the Carboniferous, as had been maintained by Maclure
and R. C. Taylor, was of Mesozoic time. In the second paper he
described the position of more than fifty thermal springs in the Ap
palachian belt, occurring in an area of about 15,000 square miles,
deducing the law that these thermal springs issue from anticlinal
axes and faults, or from points very near such lines, and, in connec
tion with their chemistry, proving the important fact of the great
preponderance of nitrogen in the free and combined gases of these
springs. The observations on subterranean temperature recorded in
the third paper were the first published confirmation, as regards the
United States, of the law of augmenting temperature beneath the
surface of the earth, although similar observations had been made by
Humboldt in Mexico. The memoir on the physical structure of the
Appalachian chain, etc., was the joint work of Profs. W. B. and H. D.
Rogers, founded on their explorations of this belt in Pennsylvania
and Virginia, and its prolongation toward the southwest and north
east. The novelty and importance of its generalizations were at
once recognized in Europe as well as at home, and gave the authors,
" the Gebriider Rogers," a prominent place among contemporary
geologists; and, so far as the development of the physical structure
of the Appalachians is concerned, this memoir is still regarded as of
classical value.

Prof. Rogers was chairman of the Association in 1845, and again
two years later, when it was expanded into the " American Associa
tion for the Advancement of Science," at the first meeting of which
he presided until it was fully organized.

In connection with his brother, Robert E. Rogers, now become
his colleague as Professor of Chemistry and Materia Medica in the
university, he published a number of important chemical contributions,
relating chiefly to new or improved methods in chemical analysis and
research, in SiUiman?8 Journal, between 1840 and 1850. Among these
were papers " On a New Process for obtaining Pure Chlorine ; " " A
New Process for obtaining Formic Acid, Aldehyde, etc. ; " " On the
Oxidation of the Diamond in the Liquid Way ; " " On New Instru
ments and Processes for the Analysis of the Carbonates ; " " On the
Absorption of Carbonic Acid by Liquids," an extended investigation;
and " On the Decomposition of Rocks by Carbonated and Meteoric
Waters," a paper of much interest in its geological bearings.

In the volume of the " Transactions of the British Association "
for 1849, Prof. Rogers called attention to the existence of true coal-
measures bc4ow the horizon of the Carboniferous limestone in the
Appalachian belt as discovered by him in the Virginia survey, and
referred to in his annual reports.

SKETCH OF PROF. WILLIAM B. ROGERS. 609

He married, in 1849, a daughter of Hon. James Savage, of Bos
ton, President of the Massachusetts Historical Society, and author
of the " Genealogical Dictionary," and in 1873 removed to that city,
where he has since resided. Here, although he early identified himself
with the educational and public interests of the community, he did
not relax his devotion to scientific labors, which were now, however,
more largely directed to the department of experimental physics.
Among his contributions to physics at this period may be mentioned
a series of papers " On Binocular Vision, giving an Elaborate Analy
sis of the Phenomena, with some Important Additions to the Research
es on this Subject of Wheatstone and Brewster ; " " Experiments on
Sonorous Flames," in which he described an apparatus for making
visible the vibrations by rotating the flame ; and " On the Forma
tion of Rings of Air and Liquids " all of which may be found in
Sillimari s Journal (1855- 60).

He also published, in the New Edinburgh Philosophical Journal,
the results of continued observations on atmospheric ozone, and on
the auroras of August and September, 1859 and 1860. As a member
of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and of the Boston
Society of Natural History, of the former of which he was for many
years the corresponding secretary, Prof. Rogers took an active part in
the discussions of the various scientific questions then rising into im
portance, and made contributions from time to time to their published
proceedings. Among the communications to the American Academy
we may note papers " On the Protozoic Age of Certain Rocks in
Eastern Massachusetts ; " " On the Actinism of the Electric Discharge
in Vacuum Tubes," of which he exhibited numerous photographs, in
connection with his paper on the improvements, by Mr. E. S. Ritchie,
of the Ruhmkorff apparatus ; and " Experiments disproving, by the
Binocular Combination of Visual Spectra, Brewster s Theory of Suc
cessive Combination of Corresponding Points."

In the " Transactions of the Boston Society of Natural History "
appeared, among other articles by Prof. Rogers, communications " On
tn e Growth of Stalactites ; " " Geological Relations of the New Red
Sandstone of the Middle States to the Coal-Rocks of Eastern Virginia
and North Carolina ; " " On the Origin and Accumulation of the
Protocarbonate of Iron in Coal-Measures ; " " On the Natural Coke
and Associated Igneous Rocks of Eastern Virginia ; " and " On Peb
bles in the Newport Conglomerate."

At the annual meetings of the American Association for the Ad
vancement of Science, Prof. Rogers has been a frequent contributor,
as well in the discussions of scientific questions as in the communi
cation of original papers, which, however, in most cases, appear only
by title in their " Transactions," or are to be found in other publica
tions before mentioned.

In 1853 he removed to Boston, where he has since resided. At
VOL. ix. 39

6 10 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the request of his friend Governor Andrew, in 1861, he accepted the
office of Inspector of Gas and Gas-Meters for the State of Massa
chusetts, and organized a system of inspection in which he aimed to
apply scientific principles more fully than had hitherto been attempted
in the United States. Some account of his methods was given at a
meeting of the British Association. During this time Prof. Rogers
was often called upon for public lectures on scientific subjects in
Massachusetts and elsewhere, and gave several courses before the
Lowell Institute in Boston.

Prof. Rogers had long felt the need, in our educational system, of
giving to the physical sciences a higher place and more practical
methods of teaching than had hitherto been allowed them, and he
was therefore eager to avail himself of the opportunity for carrying
out these views. In behalf of a committee of gentlemen who had
become interested in the subject, he drew up a scheme entitled " Ob
ject and Plan of an Institute of Technology," embracing a society
of arts, a museum of arts, and a school of industrial science ; and he
subsequently addressed a memorial to the Legislature of Massachu
setts, urging the establishment of such an institution. After some
delay a charter for the " Institute of Technology " was granted, and
Prof. Rogers was placed at its head. A whole square of land on Back
Bay was granted for building-purposes one third to the Boston So
ciety of Natural History, the other two thirds to the Institute of
Technology. But the popularity and increasing prosperity of the
Institute make it already cramped in its present stately hall, and it
will soon be necessary to have another edifice. The detailed plan for
the departments of the school, prepared by Prof. Rogers in 1864, has
been carried out, with but slight modifications. A marked feature of
this plan, which has since been adopted in many other institutions, was
the introduction of laboratory teaching, not only in the department
of chemistry, but in that of physics, mechanics, and mining, a feature
which has no doubt contributed largely to the reputation which the
school has acquired for thoroughness of scientific training.

Besides being president of the Institute, Prof. Rogers filled the
chair of Physics and Geology for several years after the establishment
of the school. It may be added that he was active in founding the
American Social Science Association, and was its first president.

But this inventory of the life-work of Prof. Rogers, extensive and
interesting as it is, leaves out a powerful element of the influence
he has exerted as a teacher over great numbers of young men
who have been brought within the spell of his personality. Prof.
Rogers is an orator of the first class, and we have long regarded him
as the most impressive and delightful speaker that has appeared be
fore the American Association. And it must be remembered that
science puts oratory to its highest test ; it is a field in which reason
is supreme, and where the speaker is not at liberty to throw logic to

SKETCH OF PROF. WILLIAM B. ROGERS. 611

the winds, and make his fiery appeal to the feelings and passions of
listeners. The scientific orator must address intelligent men, habitu
ated to think for themselves, on the alert against tricks that carry
the imagination, while the speaker himself is kept under the close
restraints of fact. To be able to captivate and enchain an audience
in the pure work of exposition, to fascinate in teaching, is a triumph
of oratorical art. Prof. Rogers has been marked by the possession
of this rare gift, and before his classes in college, whether treating
of rocks, physical forces, or rigid principles of mathematics, he was
always able to kindle the enthusiasm of the students, and make the
most vivid and lasting impressions upon their minds. We were not
surprised, therefore, to note, in a Virginia newspaper of last year, an
exciting description of the way Prof. Rogers was received by his old
students at the semi-centennial of the University of Virginia, where
he " was the central object, on whom were fixed the eyes and hearts
of the great concourse there assembled from all parts of the country.
It was difficult to get near enough to speak to him, surrounded as he
was by such numbers of those who in years long past had attended
his lectures." He made an address, the reception of which is de~
scribed by the writer with a pardonable warmth : " At the dinner of
the* alumni, Prof. Rogers addressed them in a speech of half an hour.
It was a wonderful specimen of eloquence. The old students beheld
before them the same William B. Rogers who, thirty-five years be
fore, had held them spellbound in his class of natural philosophy ;
and as the great orator warmed up, these men forgot their age ; they
were again young, and showed their enthusiasm as wildly as when in
days of yore, enraptured by his eloquence, they made the lecture-
room of the university ring with their appjause. Such was the effect
produced by the off-hand words of this distinguished man of science
and unrivaled orator ; and those who have heard him in his moments
of inspiration will not wonder at the account we have given."

Some time ago failing health compelled Prof. Rogers to retire
from the active direction of the Institute. He still, however, has a
share in its government, and his returning strength for the last two
or three years has enabled him gradually to resume his favorite
pursuits.

612

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

CORRESPONDENCE.

A STONE BATTLE-AXE.
To the Editor of the Popular Science, Monthly :

I HEREIN give you the outlines of a
large-sized battle-axe, found in a thick
bed of drift on the elevated surface of Rose
or Cemetery Hill, Cumberland, Maryland.
This locality is situated on the first plateau
at the base of Will s Mountain, on the south
side of Will s Creek, and east side of the
mountain, and within the limits of the city
of Cumberland.

The unassorted drift that spreads over
this plateau for miles, and which lies about
two hundred and fifty feet above the bed of

FIG. 1. A, pole ; B, blade. Length from A to
B, 10% inches ; thickness from G to D. %%
inches.

Will s Creek, varies in thickness from two
to ten, and in some places twenty feet, and
the point at which this implement of the
Paleolithic age was found is about five or
six feet beneath the original surface the
soil, gravel, sand, and water-worn bowlders

having been carried over the declivity into
Will s Creek by rains or other means.

This remarkably large relic of by-gone
ages has a very sharp edge, compared with
hundreds of the small Indian axes and
hatchets, so called, found in many parts
of this country. It weighs seven and a
half pounds, measures eight and a half

FIG. 2. A, pole ; B, blade, edse very sharp from
mark to mark + , then thickens abruptly ;
C C, thong-marks.

The lithological character of this relic of the
Stone age is that of a dark-blue cherty, sili
ceous and coralline limestone of the Pale
ozoic age, and, possibly, of an upper Silurian
stratum, as it very much resembles some oi
those fossiliferous strata, and, in fact, pre
sents on one side what very much resembles
a large (but not very distinct) polyparium of
the fossil coral lichenalia concentrica of Prof.
Hall s " Paleontology of New York," vol. ii.,
Plate 37, A.

inches around the sharp edge of the blade ;
it is ten and a half inches long, seven and
three-quarters inches across the widest part
of the blade ; is two and five-eighths inches
through from side to side, and tapers grad
ually toward the pole to a sharp point, in a

CORRESP ONDENCE.

613

similar manner to the stone axes of the
ancient Celtic tribes, so frequently found in
some portions of England, Ireland, and
Scotland.

On the plateau above named, bowlders
of many hundred weight are thickly scat
tered, which could have been deposited in
their present locality by floating ice only,
and it is more than likely that this relic of
the Primeval or Stone age was brought to
this locality and deposited by the same
agencies that brought the bowlders and
other detritus, perhaps, from a very dis
tant region. *

The thong-marks for securing the handle
are well preserved, but were deeper when
first taken from the ground, as there was a
full sixteenth of an inch of semi-decomposed
material rubbed off in cleaning it up. The
stone from which it has been made appears
to have been a portion of one of those hard,
cherty strata of coralline limestone, belong
ing to the silurian formation, some of which
are harder than flint, and almost as tough
as iron. The implement, as it is now, is
dark blue on one side, but lighter on the
other. This lighter side appears to have
yielded more readily to the action of the
elements, decomposition having apparently
removed at least a quarter of an inch more
on this side than on the other, thus mate
rially reducing the weight of the specimen.
This battle-axe was found on January 4,
1876. WILLIAM ANDREWS.

CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND.

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly :

SIR : In your notice of Mr. John Fiske s
criticism of Dr. Draper s " Conflict " you
have shown, plainly enough, that Dr. Dra
per s alleged superficiality consisted in using
the word religion in the common sense.

That Dr. Draper s conceptions are so
" crude " as to blind him to the higher and
more spiritual conceptions which Mr. Fiske
defines so admirably, or that he would con
sider religion, so defined, in antagonism
with science, is an assertion which finds no
warrant in his book. It would be easy, if
it were worth while, to point to passages
that explicitly negative such imputations.
But to have adopted Mr. Fiske s rather
transcendental refinement, and to have

constantly used the qualified terms which
it would require, would have been to sacri
fice directness and brevity to a nicety of
expression that none but the hypercritical
would demand.

Your quotation shows that Mr. Spencer s
" First Principles " must fall within the list
of books which, "vitiated by this crude
conception " (of antagonism), "cannot have
much philosophical value ; " and I beg to
append another from a work which, it
would seem, must come into the same class,
although it is by an author evidently held
in high esteem by Mr. Fiske :

" That harmony which we hope eventu
ally to see established between our knowledge
and our aspirations is not to be realized by
the timidity which shrinks from logically
following out either of the two apparently
conflicting lines of thought as in the ques
tion of matter and spirit but by the fear
lessness which pushes each to its inevitable
conclusion. Only when this is recognized
will the long and mistaken warfare between
Science and Religion be exchanged for an en
during alliance" (FISKE S " Cosmic Philos
ophy," vol. ii., p. 509.)

E. R. LELAND.
EATTCLAIEE, WISCONSIN, July 20, 1876.

GEOMETRICAL CHEMISTEY.

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly :

GEOMETRICAL CHEMISTRY. By HENRY WURTZ.
First, or Introductory Memoir. Re
printed from the American Chemist, for
March, 1876. New York: John F. Trow
& Son. 1876.

THE author prefixes a Greek motto to
his memoir, namely, the question, " Where
fore did Plato assert that the GOD worketh
ever by geometry ? " As the memoir con
tains no other geometry, this motto appar
ently is intended to justify the first half
of the title.

But the other half has not even that much
of a justification. From beginning to end
it is impossible to detect a new principle or
fact that properly belongs to chemistry in
this memoir. The great chemical authorities
of the memoir are Kant, Hegel, Stallo, and
Sterry Hunt (p. 60). A new force, the Cra-
tetic Force, is discovered, " which is not re
ciprocal, but absolute in its action upon the
more electro-positive molecule, without reac-

6 H

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tion upon the electro-negative one " (p. 69).
Hence the equality of action and reaction
must now be thrown to the resting-place of
horror vacui and kindred errors.

Having reached the end of the memoir
without encountering a single scientific re
sult, I felt greatly relieved by the author s
modest statement (p. 72) : " I claim to have
discovered and demonstrated the same
grand geometrical laws which Kepler traced
as ruling the planetary system, as prevail
ing also in the microcosms which we call
molecules." And the author complacently
continues : " I must add that, though many
advanced chemists have long expected some
great revelation from this source, yet now
that a revelation has come, there are few even
among the boldest and most original think
ers who will not be startled at the sweeping,
in some respects revolutionary, tendency
of these developments, with regard to the
current theories of the schools and the
school-books."

I confess to have indeed been thorough
ly "startled" to see such a paper as this
printed in extenso in the American Chemist ;
and not much less astonished to find it re
cently (May 27, 1876) partly reprinted in
the Engineering and Mining Journal, ac
companied by a highly-laudatory editorial,
wherein Dr. T. Sterry Hunt is reported to
have expressed the opinion that "Prof.
Wurtz has surprised Nature in one of her
secrets, and has enunciated a law which is
probably as important as the law of the
force of gravity."

It is simply because these high and un
qualified indorsements are likely to give the
vagaries of " Geometrical Chemistry " cur
rency in the popular scientific press of the
country that I take the trouble to expose
the palpable fallacy of the whole fabric.

The inorganic chemical compounds con
tain oxygen as the most general constituent,
while the organic compounds contain as
generally carbon. Hence, if we were to
mystify some of our chemical colleagues,
not very sound in elementary mathematics,
we would calculate the densities of all com
pounds by assuming almost any fixed atomic
volume for these two elements, and assign
ing the residual volume to the other con
stituents. By a liberal use of arbitrary

multiples, these residual volumes could then
be very readily expressed as cubes (or al
most any other function) of whole numbers
with so great an approximation that in
versely the calculated density of the com
pound must be almost identical with any 1
of the observed values of the same. Such
a process, when presented by a sufficiently
funny man in Section Q of the American
Association, would be very entertaining ; but
when such a thing occupies twenty quarto
pages in the American Chemist, and when
voluminous extracts thereof in other scien
tific journals are printed as embodying great
chemical progress, I feel that American
science has been disgraced.

Prof. Wurtz in the above mystification
proves himself not even sufficiently master
of arithmetical puns to keep th,e variations
of the positive elements (the above residual)
within bounds. A slightly more dexterous
use of the convenient arbitrary multiples
would have helped him out, and yielded nu
merous new "laws." Thus the hydrogen
diameter ranges from 16 to 28, that is, in
volume it ranges as the cubes of these num
bers, from 4,096 to 21,952, in proportion of
one to five in closely-allied compounds ! In
very closely-related compounds of alumin
ium the diameter of aluminium varies from
16 to 45, its volume therefore from 4,096
to 91,125, or in the proportion of one to
twenty-two ! (See pp. 54-57.)

Space forbids my entering upon a more
detailed expose of this crude display of in
determinate analysis. The whole thing is
so utterly worthless, so absolutely destitute
of every gleam of science, so horridly un
couth even in its verbal exposition, that
this short notice is most reluctantly given,
simply to protest, in the name of American
science, against the filling of our scientific
journals with material that exposes us to
the ridicule of the scientific world.

GUSTAVUS HlNRICHS.
IOWA CITY, IOWA, July 21, 1876.

1 The influence of impurities, etc., is coolly as
cribed to arbitrary variations in atom-diameter and
varying multiples in the molecule ; this is done
even for minerals and metals 1 I wonder that Mr.
Kaymond did not see the absurdity of the whole
process. See, for example, "Siderite," p. 32, or in
fact any substance for which more than one density
has been used.

EDITOR S TABLE.

EDITOR S TABLE.

FRENCH EXPERIENCES WITH PAPER-
MONET.

IN his pamphlet entitled "Paper-
Money Inflation in France : How
it came, What it brought, and How it
ended," President White tells a very
plain and direct, but a very exciting
story of national folly and infatuation.
It sounds like romance, and but for
the constant citations we should almost
suspect that the writer is treating us to
a satire on American finance. Yet he
only gives us a cool, matter-of-fact de
lineation of a great national experi
ment in the substitution of irredeem
able paper for coin as a circulating
medium. The lesson brought out by
this impressive narration is, that there
are natural laws which govern the busi
ness operations of society just as inex
orable as the physical laws that main
tain the harmonies of the solar system
or the physiological laws that control
the life-processes of the human body.
But in the realm of social operations
this truth is not recognized. In con
sequence of public ignorance upon this
point, and the stupid superstitions of the
people regarding the potency of legis
lation, this great field of human effort
is the intrenchment of imposture in a
hundred shapes, where designing quacks
and credulous dupes, calculating dema
gogues, purblind reformers, and hum
bugs of every stripe, have free course
and unrestrained revel. This is a
sphere in which it is believed that
Nature can be cheated, and the conse
quences of human actions escaped. The
laws that connect human well-being
with self-restraint, that require present
sacrifice for future good, and make
comfort and competence dependent
upon industry and frugality, are held
to be the mere hard conditions of hu
man lot, which, being evaded by many,

may be avoided by all through cunning
political schemes and proper legislative
ingenuity. There are still millions in
this country who have a kind of vague
faith that irredeemable paper-money
such as a government can print and
scatter without limit is a means of na
tional prosperity, a fountain of public
wealth, an equalizer of fortunes, a
blessing to the poorer classes, and a
grand defense of society against the
evils of poverty and privation. That it
is an illusion and a snare, full of dan
ger, and offering transient benefits at
the expense of final disaster, it is diffi
cult to make them understand.

Let people in this state of mind ac
quaint themselves with the experience
of the French upon the subject by read
ing President White s statement. We
give its leading points, quoting his own
words freely : The year 1789 was one
of stagnation and financial embarrass
ment in France. The nation had a
heavy debt and a serious deficit, and
there was scarcity of money and a
want of confidence. This was a time
of trial and a test of statesmanship.
There were those who saw that the
evil could only be remedied by pa
tience, careful management, and the
strict adherence to established financial
principles. But others, as Dr. White
says, were " looking about for some
short road to prosperity, and ere long
the idea was set afloat that the great
want of the country was more of
the circulating medium ; and this was
speedily followed by calls for an is
sue of paper - money." There was
then a struggle. The dangers of such
a course were vividly depicted on the
one hand, and on the other it was
maintained that it would be the salva
tion of France. On the 19th of April,
1790. the finance committee of the

6l6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

French Assembly reported that " the
people demand a new circulating me
dium ; " that " the circulation of pa
per is the best of operations ; " that
" it is the most free, because it reposes
on the will of the people ; " that " it
will bind the interests of the citizen to
the public good."

The Government had appropriated
the vast property of the French Church,
amounting in value to about four thou
sand million francs, and this was to be
the security of the paper. According
ly, in April, 1790, the u Government is
sued four hundred million francs in as-
signats paper - money secured by a
pledge of productive real estate, and
bearing interest to the holder at three
per cent." "What could be more se
cure ? It was maintained that such a
currency would immediately prove it
self better than coin.

" The first result of this issue was
apparently all that the most sanguine
could desire ; the Treasury was at once
greatly relieved ; a portion of the pub
lic debt was paid ; creditors were en
couraged ; credit revived ; ordinary ex
penses were met, and the paper-money
having thus been passed from the Gov
ernment into the midst of the people,
trade was revived, and all difficulties
seemed past."

Possibly, if the Government could
have stopped with these temporary ad
vantages, no great harm would have
been done. But the difficulty about
money is, that there is never thought
to be enough of it. t The benefit of real
money (coin) is to set a stubborn limit
to this universal want it cannot be
got without earning it or giving equiv
alent property for it. The curse of
pseudo-money (irredeemable paper) is,
that it panders to the universal greed
because any amount of it can be manu
factured and set afloat at any time.
And so, of course, the French, after the
first taste, wanted more. The further
issue was stoutly resisted by the ablest
men, but the current set so strong, and

the demagogues were so plausible, that
the measure was carried, and in Sep
tember the Government issued eight
hundred million assignats, "solemnly
declaring that in no case should the
entire amount put in circulation exceed
twelve hundred millions."

Great were the rejoicings on every
side. Gold was to lose all value, as it
was a superfluity, and the nation was
committed to the policy of inflation.
But the old cry of the " lack of a cir
culating medium " soon broke forth
again. A hundred millions were is
sued under the plea of a want of small
notes. On June 19, 1791, less than
nine months after the former great is
sue, six hundred millions more were
put in circulation. Next came depre
ciation of the currency, a loss of its
purchasing power, and a rise in prices.
Some said that this was due to igno
rance in the rural districts, and the
remedy proposed was " education of
the people." M. Prudhomme s news
paper, however, declared that " coin
will keep rising until the people have
hung a broker." People naturally be
gan to be alarmed, and to convert the
paper into coin and hoard it up. This
was regarded as criminal, and Marat
asserted that death was the proper
penalty for persons who thus hid their
money.

But, after the first stimulus of these
issues, business soon became depressed,
trade stagnated, the manufactories were
closed, and thousands of workmen were
discharged. Uncertainty and fluctua
tion of values followed, speculation
set in, and, in the language of Louis
Blanc, " commerce was dead ; betting
took its place." "In the cities now
arose a luxury and license which is a
greater evil than the plundering which
ministers to it. In the country the
gambling spirit spread more and more ;
nor was this reckless and corrupt spirit
confined to business-men ; it began to
break out in official circles ; and public
men who, a few years before, had been

EDITOR S TABLE.

6,7

pure in motive, and above all proba
bility of taint, became luxurious, reck
less, cynical, and finally corrupt. . . .

"Even worse than this was the
breaking down of morals in the coun
try at large, resulting from the sudden
building up of ostentatious wealth in a
few large cities, and the gambling,
speculative spirit fostered in the small
towns and rural districts."

There was no stopping now. The
artificial quickening had gradually run
into a feverish activity, followed by in
toxication, which had grown into a
regular national debauch. Every issue
of paper - money had made matters
worse. But so deep was the infatua
tion that multitudes of people insisted
that if there were only enough paper-
money all would be well. On Decem
ber 17, 1791, a new issue was ordered
of three hundred millions more, and on
April 30, 1792, still another three hun
dred millions were thrown out. The
currency was now depreciated thirty
per cent., and in July of the same year
another three hundred millions were
emitted. " Issue after issue followed
at intervals of a few months until, on
December 14, 1792, we have an official
statement that thirty -four hundred
millions had been put forth, of which
six hundred millions had been burned,
leaving in circulation twenty-eight hun
dred millions."

As articles of common consumption
grew enormously dear, their holders
became unwilling to sell them for the
worthless currency with which France
was flooded, and there then arose a de
mand that those who refused to make
such exchanges should be punished
with death. Laws were passed making
the sales of goods compulsory at fixed
prices in paper-money, which were, of
course, inoperative. In 1793 there was
an enactment forbidding the sale or
exchange of specie for more than its
nominal value in paper, under a penal
ty of six years imprisonment in irons ;
and then twelve hundred millions more

of the inflated currency was thrown
out. " Toward the end of 1794 seven
thousand million assignats were in cir
culation. By the end of May, 1795,
the circulation was increased to ten
thousand millions ; at the end of June,
to fourteen thousand millions; at the
end of July, to sixteen thousand mill
ions ; and the value of one hundred
francs in paper fell steadily first to
four francs in gold, then to three, then
to two and a half." The issues con
tinued until, at the beginning of 1796,
they amounted to over forty-five thou
sand million francs. One franc in gold
was worth two hundred and eighty-
eight francs in paper - money ; sugar
was five hundred francs a pound, and
carriage-hire six thousand francs a day
in the legal currency. Debts were, of
course, now easily paid.

The madness continued, but its
form was diversified. In 1796 "it was
decreed that no more assignats be is
sued ; instead of them it was decreed
that a new paper-money, fully secured
and as good as gold, be issued, under
the name of mandats. " Choice pub
lic real estate was set apart to secure
this money, but it speedily depreciated
ninety-five per cent. It was decreed
that those who refused to take it should
be fined and sent to prison, and that
those who even spoke against it should
incur the same penalties. But the end
at last came. On July 16, 1796, " it
was decreed that all paper, mandats
and assignats, should be taken at its
real value, and that bargains might be
made in whatever currency the people
chose. The reign of paper-money in
France was over. The twenty-five hun
dred million mandats went into the
common heap of refuse with the previ
ous thirty-six billion assignats. The
whole vast issue was repudiated. The
collapse had come at last; the whole
nation was plunged into financial dis
tress and debauchery from one end to
the other."

We have given the bare skeleton

6i8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of facts contained in President White s
pamphlet, but with nothing of his ad
mirable analysis and exposition of the
working of this great financial experi
ment. Let none fail to read and pon
der the document. It is a lesson in one
branch of political economy that our
citizens cannot afford to neglect, and
we are glad to be able to state that the
publishers have issued an edition for
universal circulation, as a campaign
document needed at this time by both
parties, and at a price so low that it may
be distributed everywhere.

THE STATUE TO LIEBIG.

IT is proposed to raise a statue
in Munich in honor of the illustrious
chemist Liebig. No man better de
serves such a tribute, for the claims of
Liebig upon the appreciation and grati
tude of the civilized world are unique
and unrivaled. Starting from obscuri
ty, he made his way by the pure force
of genius alone, selecting his line of
study even in boyhood, when he was
snubbed by his teachers for the stupid
ity of his choice ; ne gave himself to
chemistry early, unreservedly, with the
enthusiasm of a vehement nature, and
pursued it with indefatigable industry
almost to the day of his death. He be
came a leader in this field in early life,
became the acknowledged master amid
a host of powerful competitors, and
died the greatest chemist in Germany.
The influence exerted by Liebig in the
advancement of his favorite science it
is hardly possible to over-estimate. His
original investigations, each of which
pushed forward the branch of inquiry
to which it was devoted, are numbered
by hundreds, so that, as Dr. Hoffman,
in his recent eulogy, justly observes,
" Were we to consider merely the vast
number and incalculable importance of
the chemical facts which he has estab
lished, we should have to proclaim him
one of the greatest contributors to
chemistry at large that ever have ap

peared, while of organic chemistry we
could not hesitate to consider him the
very source and fountain-head."

Liebig was a great experimenter,
but that is not his highest title to emi
nence as a chemist. He enriched the
science by new methods of analytic
research, and invented the apparatus
which gave a new impulse to organic
investigations and made an epoch In
organic chemistry, and he vastly en
riched the science by varied and exten
sive laboratory researches. But it was
not merely by these inquiries that he
made the deepest impression upon the
mind of the age. He was not only an
experimenter, but a thinker; not only
a chemist, but a philosopher; and it
was in his grasp of principles and the
establishment of general laws- that we
recognize his highest genius. Chemi
cal analysis, the revision and correction
of old processes, and the elucidation of
new facts, are of course important and
meritorious things, and in this field men
of moderate ability may make valuable
and permanent contributions to the
progress of science. But it requires
the insight of a higher genius to pierce
through the multitudinous mass of iso
lated results, and bring out the princi
ples that reduce them to order and
bring them into living correlation with
the general organism of scientific truth.
This was the distinguishing character
of Liebig s work in the chemical field.
When he began his labors, physiologi
cal chemistry had hardly a foothold of
recognition. The vital force was su
preme in the realm of life, and was held
to suspend and override all chemical
and physical agencies. Liebig made a
revolution by showing that a true
physiological science can only be estab
lished by interpreting vital processes in
the light of chemical and physical prin
ciples.

But the scientific fame of Liebig has
a yet broader basis. He is the father
of agricultural chemistry. Not only
did he contribute largely to the eluci-

EDITOR S TABLE.

619

dation of fundamental problems in this
branch of study, and first give to it its
recognition and status in the scientific
world, but by the skill of his pen, his
power of exposition and untiring indus
try, he aroused a popular interest in
the subject which was felt through all
the nations of civilization. Though a
chemist, his name became as familiar
in the households of this country as
those of Newton and Shakespeare, while
his work was recognized as having a
practical beneficence that involved alike
the prosperity of individuals, communi
ties, and states. For, to give an impulse
to agriculture, and to arouse the thought
and quicken the intelligence of the
agricultural classes, was to contribute
essentially to the advancement of civ
ilization itself. Whoever thinks that
this is an exaggerated estimate of the
claims and character of Prof. Liebig,
may read with profit the admirable dis
course of Dr. A. W. Hoffman, of the
University of Berlin, on " The Life-
Work of Liebig," delivered last year in
London, and just published by Macmil-
lan. It is not only a worthy tribute of
a grateful pupil to his illustrious teach
er, but it is a most admirable and dis
criminating estimate of the man in his
relations to the progressive science of
the age. We say, then, let all who be
lieve in honoring the achievements of
great men by erecting statues to their
memories contribute toward the erec
tion of this statue to Liebig. We ought
to have one erected in the Central
Park ; but, if that be impracticable, let
it be done in Munich. At the recent
dinner given by the American Chemical
Society to the foreign chemists con
nected with the Centennial Exhibition
in Philadelphia, it was announced that
Dr. Hoffman asks from this country a
contribution of $2,500 to complete the
work. Chemists, as a class, do not
abound in this world s goods, but $1,000
was pledged for the purpose on the
spot. Our enterprising and successful
agricultural friends should have a hand

in this work ; and, if any are disposed
to help it on, their contributions may
be forwarded to Prof. E. N. Horsford,
of Cambridge, or to Prof. C. F. Chan
dler, of New York, who will forward
any funds that may be intrusted to them
to the foreign committee who have the
work in charge.

HAMILTON ON "SOCIAL SCIENCES

ME. R. S. HAMILTON, considering
himself very badly treated in our notice
of his book, made some time ago, pays
us off in an article which appears in our
pages this month. He lays it on to the
editorial back without mercy, and noth
ing remains for us but to kiss the rod
and resume the subject. Perhaps we
are obtuse, but, having again looked
over his volume, and our remarks upon
it, in the light of what he now says, we
are still unable to see that we have
dene him the injustice of which he com
plains.

Mr. Hamilton admits that our main
accusation and almost the only one
was, that his book is " old." Let us
see, then, what ground he has for pro
testing against this position. Had he
designated his volume by its secondary
title, " A Review, Historical and Criti
cal, of the Progress of Thought in Social
Philosophy," which would have better
described it, our criticism would have
been uncalled for; but by putting it
forth under the name of " The Present
Status of Social Science " he invited
attention to it as a report, up to date,
on a highly-important and rapidly -de
veloping subject. THE POPULAR SCI
ENCE MONTHLY had but little interest
in the historical and critical features of
his work ; but it was interested in its
claim to inform its readers of the pres
ent attitude of a great science. Taking
it up from this point of view the view
challenged by the author in the adop
tion of his title we said it was "old."
Not that we have the slightest objec
tion to old books if they are good, or

620

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to old ideas if they are true, but only
that it becomes sometimes necessary in
science to discriminate between past
and present conditions, although the
past be quite modern. We did not, of
course, consider the book old in the
sense of the Assyrian inscriptions, but
rather in the sense of a last year s al
manac, which, although recent, still
fails to indicate the present status of
astronomical movements.

We said in our notice that the au
thor " seemed to have but an obscure
conception of social science," the im
plication of course being that his book
is behind the age. He replies that
"social science is a very large science,"
and may present different aspects to its
different cultivators. But surely this
need not imply obscurity in the con
ception of the science itself. Astron
omy, geology, and biology, are very
large sciences, and, no doubt, present
different aspects to investigators in the
same field, but this by no means neces
sitates vagueness or obscurity in the
ideas of the aim, subject-matter, or
methods, of either. There is common
and well-determined work to be done
in each, regardless of its extent.

But we were not left to inference
in imputing to the author obscure con
ceptions upon the subject, for, accord-
jng to him, no others are at present
possible. In the first chapter of his
book he says that " this important sci
ence has not yet attained to just, clear,
and definite ideas as to its true and
proper ends, and consequently it has
not yet learned how even to begin its
inquiries properly, how to direct its
efforts, or systematize its observations.
For this is precisely the present condi
tion of social science." The obvious
conclusion from this is, that as yet
there is no such science. Its " status "
is therefore in substance nothing, and
in place nowhere, while the attempt to
state it must needs be superfluous and
impossible. This is a view that might
have been held any time these thou

sands of years, and we think may be
properly characterized as " old."

Mr. Hamilton labors to show that
he was right in holding Herbert Spen
cer responsible for his " Social Statics,"
and denies that the modifications of
opinion, which the author of that work
declares he has undergone since its pub
lication twenty-five years ago, are to be
regarded as "important." Well, that
depends upon the estimate he puts upon
accuracy of representation. Mr. Ham
ilton s view of what is "important"
in such cases will certainly not pass
muster among scientific men, who are
generally and properly emphatic in the
assertion of their rights in this partic
ular. They insist upon being judged
only by the latest expression of their
views, and chemists, physicists, and
physiologists alike refuse to be bound
by the old editions of their works. Mr.
Spencer s modifications of opinion were
held so important by himself that he
strenuously resisted the republication
of the book in this country when out
of print in England ; and, when over
ruled in this, he interposed a preface,
warning his readers that it was no
longer a truthful expression of his
views. While not absolutely repudiat
ing it, and while still adhering to its
general conceptions, he yet declares
that the theory which it enunciates has
been so variously modified and further
developed that he does not abide by its
detailed applications. Several positions
in the work are explicitly disavowed,
and it is obvious that his changes of
view affect its whole complexion. Mr.
Hamilton attacked his chapter on " The
Evanescence of Evil" with results sat
isfactory to himself; yet he could hard
ly fail to see that the argument of that
chapter is merged in the great prin
ciple of Evolution, which has received
its almost entire scientific development
since the date of " Social Statics," while
Mr. Spencer has been a leading student
of that subject, and made it the foun
dation of his philosophy.

EDITOR S TABLE.

021

But Mr. Hamilton had before him
Spencer s direct assertion that the doc
trine underlying that part of the book
(which contained the discussion on
" The Evanescence of Evil ") as there
stated is but an adumbration of the
view which he now holds. Is there no
" important " difference between the
dim foreshadowing of a principle and
its distinct presentation with the limits
and qualifications that result from years
of research and reflection ? Mr. Spen
cer declared, besides, that he could not
revise " Social Statics " without great
labor; and what does this imply but
that the changes of the work would
have to be extensive and important?
Moreover, he has been long engaged
upon the systematic extension of the
subject to which his first book was
dedicated, and he expresses the hope
to set forth in due time " the developed
conclusions of which Social Statics
must be regarded as a rough sketch."

A painter would not like to be criti
cally judged by a rough sketch, and
would consider it very important that
judgment should be suspended until
the work was finished why not, then,
a literary or a scientific artist ? It was
well enough, of course, for Mr. Hamil
ton to attack Spencer s old book, and
riddle and ridicule it to his heart s con
tent, if he thought it worth while. But,
as his thesis was "the present status"
of the great subject to which Spencer
is devoting his life, he was bound in all
fairness to let his readers know both how
Mr. Spencer regarded his early treatise,
and the import of his subsequent labors
upon the same subject. Thirteen years
before Mr. Hamilton s book was pub
lished Mr. Spencer had printed a pro
gramme giving a detailed outline of
the course of thought by which alone,
in his opinion, Sociology can be logi
cally reached and scientifically unfold
ed. Mr. Spencer s position as a thinker
was such as to command the high re
spect of eminent men, who indorsed
his undertaking at the outset as one of

great public importance. But of this
Mr. Hamilton gives us no intelligible
account, although Spencer s prospectus
alone was a sufficient refutation of the
statement that clear and definite ideas
have not yet been reached regarding
the true ends and methods of social sci
ence. The prominence that Mr. Ham
ilton gives in his own book to " Social
Statics " a work that Spencer, in elu
cidating the principles of social sci
ence, has left far behind sufficiently
shows that his treatment of the science
of society is not up to date.

But, aside from the point of view
we took in our very brief notice of Mr.
Hamilton s book, we have no hesitation
in saying it is a volume of much inter
est. It contains a good deal of valua
ble information and instructive discus
sion, "historical and critical, in rela
tion to the progress of thought in so
cial philosophy." It is only with re
gard to the social science which he pro
fesses to have triangulated, and fixed
its latest position, that we think he is
somewhat befogged just sufficiently,
perhaps, to entitle him to the perpet
ual presidency of the American Social
Science Association.

PROF. HUXLEY.

THIS gentleman is evidently very
much wanted in the United States.
There is great anxiety to see him and
hear him speak. The applications to
secure lectures from him are numerous
and urgent, the applicants being deter
mined not to take no for an answer.
It is a repetition of the experience with
Tyndall four years ago, and the fact is
significant, as showing that public in
terest in science is not a transient thing.
In the case of Prof. Tyndall it was
alleged by many that his brilliant ex
periments were the attraction, and that
people went to his lectures impelled by
the same motive that draws them to a
pyrotechnic show. Of course, this was
not true, but no such reason can be

622

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

assigned for the desire to hear Prof.
Huxley, as he never experiments. His
chosen department of science is one of
the most difficult, and the questions he
discusses are profound. Undoubtedly
in the great movement of thought in
this age Prof. Huxley s topics are prom
inent, and many agencies have con
spired to give them wide public inter
est; but we have to reckon Huxley s
genius as one among the potent forces
that in recent years have determined
this course of public thought. Thus far
we on this side know him only as a
writer, and his remarkable powers in
this respect are so well understood
that nothing need be said about them
here. But his accomplishments as a
lecturer are quite equal to those dis
played in his books. Said a distin
guished English scientist the other day,
who had come over as a Centennial
juror : " And so Huxley is to be with
you, and is going to lecture. Well,
those who hear him will have a treat,
for as a scientific lecturer he is un-
equaled. Next to John Bright I re
gard Huxley as the best orator in Eng
land ; at any rate, in exposition, in eluci
dating a complex subject before a pop
ular audience, we have no man to com
pare with him." Prof. Huxley s man
ner as a speaker is very quiet, and by
those who like the vehement and de
monstrative style it would be considered
tame, but his discourse is clear, finished,
deliberate, and strong. Nor, is it nec
essary that he should have a learned
auditory to appreciate and enjoy his
addresses. His command of his sub
ject, of language and illustration, is so
complete that he adapts himself with
rare facility to the mental condition of
his hearers. One of the most success
ful efforts we ever witnessed upon the
platform was a lecture on physical ge
ography given by Huxley to the work
ing-men of London who filled to its
last corner the large lecture-room of
the Jermyn Street School of Mines.
We had heard him before on ethnology

at one of the " Friday evenings " of
the Eoyal Institution before the elite
of scientific London. It was an ad
mirable discourse, and was listened to
with the keenest attention and a lively
pleasure, though how much of its suc
cess might be due to the cultivated
character of the assemblage it was not
then easy to say. But his Jermyn Street
audience consisted of unlettered, hard-
handed working-men, and yet there
was not one among them that did not
follow the speaker under standingly and
with evidently" as great enjoyment as
the most cultured listeners. Prof.
Huxley will be sure to please his Amer
ican audiences, and, considering how
much good he might do us, it is unfor
tunate that he cannot stay longer and
speak in our chief cities. In the short
course of lectures which he has con
sented to deliver in New York he will
take up a subject which has long oc
cupied him, upon which he is an au
thority, and which is certain to be
treated in a manner that will gratify
all who have the good fortune to
listen to him. We announced last
month that the lectures will take place
on the 18th, 20th, and 22d of Septem
ber, and that those desiring to secure
seats could do so by registering their
applications with D. Appleton & Co.
The seats have been rapidly taken, and,
as there is only a certain number of
them, we must again remind those
whom it may concern that when they
are all bespoken no more can be had
for love or money.

LITERARY NOTICES.

THE AMERICAN CYCLOPEDIA: A Popular
Dictionary of General Knowledge. Edit
ed by GEORGE RIPLEY and CHARLES A.
DANA. 16 vols., 13,314 pages. Price
(cloth), $80.

THIS Cyclopaedia, the first edition of
which was completed in 1863, having proved
its adaptation to the general wants by a
very extensive sale, has now undergone
complete revision, and, while preserving its

LITERARY NOTICES.

623

well-known character, comes forth essen
tially a new work. Considerable portions of
the original remain intact, where nothing has
occurred to impair the accuracy of the
statements ; yet such are the activity of re
search and the vigilance of criticism in all
departments of knowledge that but few
subjects remain unaffected, and a large
number of articles have required to be add
ed or amplified, corrected or retrenched, so
as to make the work thoroughly trustworthy,
and to bring its multitudinous contents into
proper symmetry and proportions. The
changes in the new edition are marked.
It has been freely illustrated throughout
wherever engravings could help the text,
and the scientific and political articles have
been all rewritten, while the utmost pains
have been taken to bring the endless details
up to the latest standard of accuracy. Of
course, the work is not free from imperfec
tions, because knowledge itself is imper
fect ; but whatever could be done by the
ability and experience of the editors, by
their extensive corps of able contributors,
and by the liberal expenditure of the pub
lishers, to make the Cyclopaedia worthy of
public confidence, has certainly been ac
complished. We say this without hesita
tion, and know something of that which we
affirm. The office of the staff of editors of
the " American Cyclopaedia " adjoins our
own, and for the past four years we have
watched their proceedings with a lively in
terest and no little admiration. Having the
advantage of a thorough apprenticeship in
the preparation of the first edition, the ed
itors were enabled to organize the work of
revision in the completest manner from
the start, and it has been carried on with
unrelaxed assiduity, with a disciplined co
operation an effectiveness of method and
a conscientious caution that have brought
the whole talent of the force into a focus, as
it were, upon each page in its preparation
for the press.

But in judging the merit of a cyclopaedia
we have to look further than this. Such a
work may be a monument of careful labor,
which is still misdirected. The question re
mains, What is its purpose, and how is its
design fulfilled ? There are cyclopaedias upon
all subjects, commerce, chemistry, agricult
ure, technology, fine art, engineering, and
various other branches of knowledge ; and

they have special values, of course, for the
cultivators of those branches, though very
little value for general use. It is folly
to expatiate upon the accuracy and full
ness of a cyclopaedia of antiquities, for ex
ample, to one who cares nothing about the
subject. To a politician a cyclopaedia of the
physical sciences, however faithfully exe
cuted, would be but rubbish with which
he would hardly cumber the shelves of
his library. A cyclopaedia is therefore to
be judged primarily by its adaptation to
the class for which it was prepared. The
"American Cyclopaedia," as a comprehen
sive and popular dictionary of general
knowledge, appeals, not especially to this
class or to that, but to intelligent people
everywhere who desire a work of reference
on all topics of current and general interest.
More than any other work that has yet ap
peared, the " American Cyclopaedia " is
adapted to the daily uses and wants of
American families. Its matter is chosen,
harmonized, proportioned, illustrated, and
put into literary form, we might almost
say, with reference to their needs ; and
certainly, as a means of education in the
family, its value is hardly to be over-esti
mated. It is a library of itself, in which
the best information upon many thou
sands of subjects has been condensed so
as to be quickly found at any moment
when it is wanted. As books multiply un
til they become burdensome, and the press
ure upon the time forbids their being read,
we are more and more driven to the sum
maries of human knowledge, in which the
husks of interminable talk are stripped
away, and we are furnished with essential
facts and compendious results. Hence the re
cent and growing popularity of encyclopedic
literature. Xo agency of intellectual culti
vation can be introduced into the family so
direct and efficient in its quickening, enlarg
ing influence upon the minds of the younger
members of the family circle as a compre
hensive, carefully-digested cyclopaedia, con
venient in form, for ready, habitual refer
ence. It answers questions, solves difficul
ties, corrects errors, imparts varied and
valuable information, and kindles the de
sire for mental cultivation. We say it does
this; it does it in many instances, and
would do it in many more if its importance
were better understood. It must not be

624

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

forgotten that a cyclopaedia in a family, like
a piano, must be used to be good for any
thing. It should be ready of access ; and,
instead of keeping it away in the library, or
locking it up in a stately bookcase, it should
be placed in a separate and open case in
the room most commonly occupied by the
family, and where the volumes can be
reached by the very smallest amount of
effort. By adopting this plan, a bright
family will soon find the Cyclopaedia among
the first of daily necessities, and a source
of constant pleasure and instruction. The
publishers have anticipated this want of
separate cases for their work, and supply
them when desired ; but any cabinet-maker
will manufacture them at a trifling cost.

DARWINIANA : Essays and Reviews pertain
ing to Darwinism. By ASA GRAY. New
York: D. Appleton & Co. Pp. 390.
Price, $2.

THE appearance of this volume will
take many people by surprise. Although
Prof. Gray is widely known in the world of
science for his botanical researches, and in
the world of education by his valuable text
books, but few are aware that he is a pro
nounced and unflinching Darwinian, or that
he has been an able and vigorous defender
of the doctrines that pass under this name,
ever since they were first promulgated. He
has written much upon this subject in vari
ous periodicals, but, caring only to let the
arguments go for what they are worth, he
has modestly withheld his name from the
articles, the effect being that his position
upon the question has not been a matter of
notoriety. His contributions to the discus
sion are varied and valuable, and, as col
lected in the present volume, they will be
seen to establish a new and unexpected
claim upon the thinking world, which we
are sure will be extensively felt and cor
dially acknowledged.

The history of what may be called the
Darwinian discussion, in some of its aspects,
is most curious and instructive. We com
placently point back to those narrow and
prejudiced times, from which we have hap
pily escaped, when novel scientific opinions
were rejected on the most frivolous and
puerile grounds, urged by those who knew
nothing whatever about them. But have
we really much improved on those old prac

tices, and do we even yet recognize that
plain rule of common-sense, to leave the
discussion of serious and difficult scientific
questions to those who are competent to
deal with them ? Our times are eminent
for just the contrary procedure. With all
our vaunted liberalization, we dare not leave
scientific questions to scientific men. In
the history of the scientific controversies of
the last three centuries there is no instance
that will compare with this of " Darwinism,"
when the community has been so bewildered
and misled by irrelevant and childish dis
cussion on the part of grossly incompetent
writers. The press has teemed with essays
and books by men who were not only unfa
miliar with the problems involved, and ut
terly ignorant of the sciences upon which
their solution depends, but who had no in
telligent conception even of the issues to
be settled. Clergymen, lawyers, metaphysi
cians, litterateurs, having no acquaintance
with natural history, and knowing nothing
of the requirements, difficulties, and per
plexities of scientific investigation, have
rushed into the debate with a confidence and
pretension contrasting strongly with the spir
it of those who have given their lives to the
study. Here comes another of these impu
dent and worthless performances, " A Criti
cal Examination of some of the Principal
Arguments for and against Darwinism," by
James Maclaren, M. A., barrister-at-law ;
and what are the claims of this writer to at
tention ? Why, he lias written a book on the
" History of the Currency ;" and, with the
mental equipment which such a work and
his professional education imply, he assumes
to deal with the greatest problem that has
ever presented itself to the mind of man,
a problem which belongs purely to science,
and is engrossing the severest scrutiny of
the most thoroughly disciplined scientific
minds of the age.

Dr. Gray s book offers a refreshing con
trast to this shallow strain of Darwinian lit
erature. It comes of a direct, first-hand, and
thoroughly familiar knowledge of the ele
ments and objects which enter into the in
quiry, and outweighs whole libraries of such
productions as we have here referred to.
The author says, in his preface : " If these
papers are useful at all, it will be as show
ing how these new views of our day are re
garded by a practical naturalist, versed in

LITERARY NOTICES.

6z 5

one department only (viz., botany), most in
terested in their bearings upon its special
problems, one accustomed to direct and
close dealing with the facts in hand, and
disposed to rise from them only to the con
sideration of those general questions upon
which they throw, or from which they re
ceive, illustration." It is this characteristic
which gives its eminent value to Dr. Gray s
volume. On such a grave question, what
we want to know is the intelligent opinion
of men capable of forming an independent
judgment, and a statement of the evidence
on which they base their conclusions. The
promulgation of Darwin s theory, in 1859,
found Prof. Gray a trained student of the
biological problems presented by the vege
table kingdom. With an extensive and accu
rate knowledge of plants, and a philosophi
cal turn of thought which could not evade
the question how the vast diversities of the
plant world have been brought about, he
had a solid preparation for judging of the
claims of the " Origin of Species." Con
vinced of the total insufficiency of all pre
vious theories upon the subject, he saw at
once that Mr. Darwin s view was a great
step forward in the pathway of science, re
solving difficulties before insuperable, and
promising to be of. immense service in or
ganizing existing knowledge, and in open
ing avenues of future investigation. The
next year after the issue of the " Origin of
Species," he published an elaborate article
in the American Journal of Science, review
ing and interpreting it, and contrasting its
doctrines with those advocated by Prof.
Agassiz. This is the opening paper of the
present volume, and was followed by a se
ries of essays which appeared in various
magazines, taking up many aspects of the
subject, answering objections, elucidating
obscurities, criticising adverse works, and
contributing important additions to the gen
eral theory. These papers, as now printed
together, not only illustrate the history of
the controversy, and the progress of the
discussion, but they form, perhaps, the full
est and most trustworthy exposition and il
lustration of what is to be properly under
stood by " Darwinism " that is to be found
in our language. Of course, the work is not
a systematic treatise upon the subject, but
it covers the chief points that are of para-

YOL. ir 40

mount interest, both to naturalists and to
general readers.

But there is another feature of Dr.
Gray s volume which will commend it, in
even a higher degree, to large portions of
the public. It gives earnest and prominent
attention to the religious aspects of the
question. Though a thorough-going Dar
winian, Dr. Gray will not consent to hold
his scientific opinions at the expense of his
religious faith. Satisfied that the great
principle of " Natural Selection " is a power
ful working law of Nature, and holding to
cardinal theological beliefs, he maintains
that the conflict between them is not neces
sary, and that an enlightened interpretation
of religious doctrine must bring it into har
mony with the advanced scientific conclu
sions. Nor is it a mere semblance of faith
that is to be harmonized with science by
frittering away its essential character. Dr.
Gray is out and out orthodox, and emi
nently sound in his theology. In his pref
ace he says :

" Then as to the natural theological questions
which (owing to circumstances needless now to
be recalled or explained) are here throughout
brought into what most naturalists, and some
other readers, may deem undue prominence,
there are many who may be interested to know
how these increasingly prevalent views and their
tendencies are regarded by one who is scientifi
cally, and in his own fashion, a Darwinian,
philosophically a convinced theist, and religious
ly an acceptor of the creed commonly called the
Nicene, 1 as the exponent of the Christian faith."

This portion of Dr. Gray s work is very
able, and we think all candid religious read
ers will find it conclusive. To all those
timid souls who are worried about the prog
ress of science, and the danger that it will
subvert the foundations of their faith, and
who perplex themselves with the question
whether a Darwinian can be a Christian,
we recommend the dispassionate perusal of
this volume. The subject is touched upon
in various aspects in the different papers ;
but the last article, which is newly contrib
uted to the volume, grapples with the gravest
difficulty of the case, and is an elaborate
discussion of " Evolutionary Teleology," or
the doctrine of purpose and design in Na
ture as affected by the principle of "Natu
ral Selection." Dr. Gray maintains with
great force that, instead of being subverted

6z6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

by Darwinism, the doctrine of design is
simply enlarged and seen to operate with a
wider scope, and to stand upon a more com
prehensive basis. He is by no means ob
livious of the difficulties with which teleology
is encompassed, and recognizes that it was
the subject of powerful philosophical assault
before Darwinism arose. But he sees also
that the obstacles to the acceptance of the
principle were due to the old ante-Dar
winian views of the " Origin of Species."
We can do no justice to this closely-reasoned
essay by quotation from it, as it requires to
be fully and carefully read to get a clear
view of the author s position. A brief pas
sage or two may, however, help to indicate
it. Speaking of the contradiction involved
in the old teleological interpretation of the
origin of the organs and parts of living creat
ures, he says :

" The error, as we suppose, lies in the com
bination of the principle of design with the hy
pothesis of the immutability and isolated crea
tion of species. The latter hypothesis, in its na
ture improbable, has, on scientific grounds, be
come so far improbable that few, even of the
anti-Darwinian naturalists, now hold to it; and,
whatever may once have been its religious
claims, it is at present a hindrance rather than
a help to any just and consistent teleology.

" By the adoption of the Darwinian hypothe
sis, or something like it, which we incline to
favor, many of the difficulties are obviated, and
others diminished. In the comprehensive and
far-reaching teleology which may take the place
of the former narrow conceptions, organs and
even faculties, useless to the individual, find
their explanation and reason of being. Either
they have done service in the past or they may
do service in the future. They may have been
essentially useful in one way in a past species,
and, though now functionless, they may be
turned to useful account in some very different
way hereafter. In botany several cases come to
our mind which suggest such interpretation."

And

again :

"Darwinian teleology has the special advan
tage of accounting for the imperfections and
failures as well as for successes. It not only
accounts for them, but turns them to practical
account. It explains the seeming waste as be
ing part and parcel of a great economical pro
cess. Without the competing multitu.de, no
struggle for life; and, without this, no natural
selection and survival of the fittest, no continu
ous adaptation to changing surroundings, no
diversification and improvement, leading from
lower up to higher and nobler forms. So the
most puzzling things of all to the old-school
teleologists are the principia of the Darwinian.
In this system the forms and species, in all their

variety, are not mere ends in themselves, but
the whole a series of means and ends, in the
contemplation of which we may obtain higher
and more comprehensive, and perhaps worthier,
as well as more consistent, views of design in
Nature than heretofore. At least, it would ap
pear that in Darwinian evolution we may have
a theory that accords with if it does not explain
the principal facts, and a teleology that is free
from the common objections.

"But is it a teleology, or rather to use the
new-fangled term a dysteleology ? That de
pends upon how it is held. Darwinian evolu
tion (whatever may be said of other kinds) is
neither theistical nor non-theistical. Its rela
tions to the question of design belong to the
natural theologian, or, in the larger sense, to
the philosopher. So long as the world lasts it
will probably be open to any one to hold con
sistently, in the last resort, either of the two hy
potheses, that of a divine mind or that of no di
vine mind. There is no way that we know of by
which the alternative may be excluded. Viewed
philosophically, the question only is, Which is
the better supported hypothesis of the two?

"We have only to say that the Darwinian
system, as we understand it, coincides well
with the theistic view of Nature. It not only
acknowledges purpose (in the Contemporary Re
viewer s sense), but builds upon it; and if pur
pose in this sense does not of itself imply de
sign, it is certainly compatible with it, and sug
gestive of it. Difficult as it may be to conceive
and impossible to demonstrate design in a whole
of which the series of parts appear to be con
tingent, the alternative maybe yet more difficult
and less satisfactory. If all Nature is of a piece
as modern physical philosophy insists then
it seems clear that design must in some way,
and in some sense, pervade the system, or be
wholly absent from it. Of the alternatives, the
predication of design special, general, or uni
versal, as the case may be is most natural to
the mind; while the exclusion of it throughout,
because some utilities may happen, many adap
tations may be contingent results, and no or
ganic maladaptations could continue, runs coun
ter to such analogies as we have to guide us,
and leads to a conclusion which few men ever
rested in. 1

It may be added that Dr. Gray s vol
ume is eminently readable, and, though
dealing with "solid" subjects, is far from
" heavy." The author has a great deal
more humor about him than the student of
his botanical manuals would be led to sus
pect. But the readers of " Darwiniana "
will find that he is not only capable of fun,
but has given it a pretty free vent in these
pages. He seems half inclined to apolo
gize for this, saying in his preface :

"If it be objected that some of these pages
are written in a lightness of vein not quite con
gruous with the gravity of the subject and the

LITERARY NOTICES.

627

seriousness of its issues, the excuse must be
that they were written with perfect freedom,
most of them as anonymous contributions to
popular journals, and that an argnment may not
be the less sound or an exposition less effective
for being playful."

No apology, however, is needed, and it
would be well if scientific writers having
the capacity of humor would imitate the
example of Dr. Gray in giving it freer ex
pression in works designed for popular
reading.

TRANSCENDENTALISM IN NEW ENGLAND : A
HISTORY. By OCTAYIUS BROOKS FROTH
INGHAM. G. P. Putnam s Sons. Pp.
395. Price, $2.50.

THE general purpose of the author in
the preparation of this volume is thus hap
pily stated by himself: " While we are
gathering up for exhibition before other
nations the results of a century of Ameri
can life, with a purpose to -show the issues
thus far of our experiment in free institu
tions, it is fitting that some report should
be made of the influences that have shaped
the national mind, and determined in any
important degree or respect its intellectual
and moral character. A well-considered
account of these influences would be of
very great value to the student of history,
the statesman, and philosopher, not merely
as throwing light on our own social prob
lem, but as illustrating the general law of
human progress. This book is offered as a
modest contribution to that knowledge."

The modern philosophic movement
known as " transcendentalism," and the
beginnings of which Mr. Frothingham traces
to Germany, France, and England, has had
a marked development in this country, and
he has done a much-needed service to the
students of the drifts and currents of mod
ern thought by working out this historical
delineation of it. No man was better pre
pared to do this useful work than Mr.
Frothingham. By his wide, scholarly prep
aration, by his personal acquaintance with
the leading characters who have had a
share in it, by his sympathy with its influ
ence, his observation of its results, and his
attitude of an independant critic, he was
qualified to deal with it on its various sides,
and he has accordingly given us a book in
a high degree readable and entertaining,
instructive and valuable. Its merits as a

study in philosophy are only equaled by
the skill and attractiveness of its personal
sketches of the men and women who have
been prominent as representatives of tran
scendental thought. And, although Mr.
Frothingham s reputation in the theological
world will be regarded by many as dubi
ous, yet his treatment of the historic bear
ings of transcendentalism upon religion is
most suggestive, and may be read with
profit by all interested in this class of
questions.

THE LIFE AND LETTERS OP LORD MACAU-
LAY. By G OTTO TREVELYAN. Harper
& Brothers. Vol. I., pp. 416 ; Vol. II.,
pp. 406. Price, $5.
THIS biography has made a decided and
unexpected impression upon the public
mind; it is, in fact, a sort of revelation.
Of Macaulay s outer life as essayist, histo
rian, orator, and politician, everything was
known, his career having been a conspicu
ous one. But as to his private life little
was known except that he was supposed to
be haughty and cold, and an everlasting
talker, who harangued the company at din
ner until everybody was tired of him. Very
little was understood of his kindly and lov
ing nature, and his tender and heroic devo
tion to his father s family from youth to
age, as so admirably narrated in these vol
umes. We have not in a long time been so
enchained by a biographical work as by this
of Mr. Trevelyan. We have not space to
give any analysis of it, or to make extracts
from its pages, but it is proper that we
should refer to one feature in Macaulay s
education which the reviews thus far seen
quite fail to notice. Macaulay went to the
University of Cambridge and took early and
powerfully to the purely literary aspects of
culture. The sciences and mathematics he
despised, and hated, and ridiculed. But
mathematics is the great thing at Cam
bridge. Macaulay might have neglected
and abused the physical sciences to almost
any extent, but if he had paid a decent re
spect to mathematics all would have been
well. As it was, he incurred the disappro
bation of the authorities, and failed to reach
the position he sought, and to which he was
unquestionably entitled by the brilliancy
of his scholarship. It was exactly in the
field where he was strongest that the ex-

628

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

amincrs plucked him. They admitted that
his translations from the Latin and Greek
were faithfully rendered, but objected to
his ungraceful, bald, and inornate English.
The biographer adds : " The real cause was
beyond all doubt his utter neglect of the
special study of the place : a liberty which
Cambridge seldom allows to be taken with
impunity even by her most favored sons."
Universities are very human, after all.

It is, however, noteworthy and very sig
nificant that Macaulay changed his views in
regard to some of these matters in maturer
life. Mr. Trevelyan says, " He used to pro
fess deep and lasting regret for his early
repugnance to scientific subjects." And
well may he have done so, for the sciences
in which he was deficient had not only a
direct bearing upon his work as a states
man and an historian, but they were rising
every decade into increasing prominence in
the world of philosophic thought. Had
Macaulay given to some of the modern sci
ences even a fraction of that untiring at
tention and insatiate interest which he de
voted to almost every form of literary rub
bish, it might have made a wide difference
in the conservation of his fame.

THE LOGIC OF CHANCE. By J. VENN, M. A.
New York : Macmillan. Pp. 500. Price,

$3.75.

Ix a work with the above title one is
prepared to find most of the illustration
and demonstration mathematical. This,
however, is not the case with the present
treatise, for the understanding of which no
knowledge of mathematics is required be
yond the simple rules of arithmetic. The
author s object is, to show what are the
foundations and province of the theory of
probability, with especial reference to its
logical bearings and its application to mor
al and social science a matter of strictly
philosophical inquiry, though the problems
which are met with in the application of the
rules of probability often require a profound
acquaintance with mathematics. In the first
part of his work the author lays down what
he calls the "physical foundations of the
science of probability." According to him,
in those classes of things with which prob
ability is concerned, the fundamental con
ception which we have to bear in mind is

that of a series. The individual members
of a series seem to be governed by no law ;
but when we consider the result of a long
succession we find a marked distinction : a
kind of order begins gradually to emerge,
aud at last assumes a distinct aspect. In
the second chapter the author has an able
critique on certain fundamental postulates
of Quetelet s system.

Part II. treats of the logical super
structure erected upon these physical foun
dations, and we have chapters entitled
" Gradations of Belief," " The Rules of Infer-
ence in Probability," " The Rule of Succes
sion," "Induction," " Causation and Design,"
" Material and Formal Logic," " Modality,"
" Method of Least Squares," and " Fallacies."
The third part is devoted to considering
various applications of the theory of prob
ability. The principle of life and property
insurance is explained ; also the laws gov
erning games of chance. Finally, there are
chapters on the " Application of Probability
to Testimony," " Credibility of Extraordi
nary Stories," and "Statistics as applied
to Human Actions."

GEOLOGICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL SURVEY OF
COLORADO AND ADJACENT TERRITORY.
1874. By F. V. HAYDEN. Pp. 515, with
Maps and Plates. Washington : Gov
ernment Printing-office.

THE great amount of work performed
by a United States Survey Expedition, dur
ing a field season, and the permanent value
of such reports as that before us, will be
understood from a brief statement of the
method in which such surveys are con
ducted : 1. Such observations are made as
will supply the data for a geological map,
showing the distribution and extent of
the formations which compose the surface
of the region. A number of sections are
examined, to ascertain how these forma
tions lie upon one another, and to de
termine their relative ages and general pale-
ontologieal relations. The extent and mode
of occurrence of all economical products,
as minerals, springs, etc., are noted, collec
tions of rocks, fossils and the like, being
made as far as possible. 2. The materials
are collected for a map or representation
of the surface features of the country, its
streams, plains, mountains, canons, etc.,

LITERARY NOTICES.

629

and this with all the accuracy that it is pos
sible to give on a map of four miles to an
inch, and in 200-foot contour-lines. Fur
ther, the general quality and distribution of
timber, bottom, agricultural and unavaila
ble lands are made the subject of investiga
tion, while botanical, natural-history, and
other specimens, are collected. The greater
part of the volume treats of the geology,
mineralogy, and mining industry of the re
gion surveyed. Then there are separate
reports on the Tertiary flora of the North
American Lignitic, ou ancient ruins in South
western Colorado, and on topography and
geography.

VILLAGE COMMUNITIES IN THE EAST AND
WEST. By SIR HENRY SUMNER MAINE.
New York: Holt & Co. Pp. 425.
Price, $3.50.

THE six lectures which give to this
volume its leading title were first published
in 1871, and have now reached a third edi
tion. Their object is to trace the resem
blances existing between the early stages
of Western civilization and the existing sta
tus in many parts of India. Other scholars
have shown the relations between modern
European languages and the Sanskrit ; the
author s task is to point out the relations
between the civil institutions of the East
and West. Besides the lectures on village
communities, the present volume contains
sundry other papers, viz., one on the effects
of observation of India on modern European
thought, three addresses to the University
of Calcutta, an essay on the theory of evi
dence, also one on Roman law and legal
education.

COMMENCING with the July number, the
Penn Monthly will hereafter be published
for the Penn Monthly Association, by Jos.
H. Coates & Co., Philadelphia. The editor
ship and ownership remain unchanged.

PUBLICATIONS KECEIVED.

Practical Botany. By A. Koehler, M. D.
New York : Holt & Co. Pp. 410, with Plates.
Price, $3.00.

Report of the Milwaukee School Com
missioners (1875). Pp. 307.

Hay-Fever. By G. M. Beard, M. D.
New York : Harpers. Pp. 266. Price,

$2.00.

Theory of Medical Science. By W. R.
Dunham, M. D. Boston: James Campbell.
Pp. 150. Price, $1.25.

Giannetto. By Lady Margaret Magen-
die. New York: Holt. Pp. 180. Price,

$1.25.

Archives do Museu Nacional do Rio de
Janeiro. Quarterly. Pp. 30. Rio de Ja
neiro : Imprensa Industrial.

Smithsonian Collection, viz., Specific
Heats, Specific Gravities, Expansion by
Heat. By F. W. Clarke, S. B.

Geographical Variation among North
American Mammals. By J. A. Allen. Pp.
40. From Report of Hayden s Survey.

Thought : Its Struggles and Failures.
By L. S. Benson. New York : Serial Sci
ence Society. Pp. 32. Price, 15 cents.

Centennial Poem. By Mrs. A. W. Du-
chow. Sonora, California : Tuolumne In
dependent print.

Mountain Surveying : A Nebula Photom
eter ; Comparison of Prismatic and Diffrac
tion Spectra. By Prof. E. C. Pickering.
From American Journal of Science and
"Proceedings of the American Academy."

Determination of Baryum. By P.
Schweitzer, Ph. D. Jefferson City : Regan
& Carter. Pp. 36.

Report on Dermatology. By L. P. Yan-
dell, Jr., M. D. Indianapolis : Journal print.
Pp.7.

Centres of Ancient Civilization in Central
America. By Dr. C. H. Berendt. New York :
D. Taylor, printer. Pp. 14.

Geometrical Chemistry. By H. Wurtz.
New York: J. F. Trow & Son, printers.
Pp. 73.

Journal of the American Society of Civil
Engineers. May. Pp. 70.

Transactions of the Kansas Horticult
ural Society (1875). Topeka : Martin,
printer. Pp. 267.

Some Disputed Points in Physiological
Optics. By H. Hartshorne. Pp. 12.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MISCELLANY.

The Cruise of the " Challenger." No.

ture, for June 1st, gives an exceedingly in
teresting account of the voyage round the
world recently completed by the Chal
lenger. This voyage was undertaken
chiefly for scientific purposes, the principal
object being to "determine as far as pos
sible the physical and biological conditions
of the great ocean-basins of the Atlantic,
the Southern Sea, and Pacific."

Important discoveries made during re
cent expeditions on the European border
of the Atlantic and in the Mediterranean,
by Dr. Carpenter, Mr. Gwyn Jeffries, and
Prof. Wyville Thomson, stimulated a de
sire for further investigation, and this great
voyage under direction of Prof. Thompson,
as chief of the civilian staff, was inaugurated
and carried through to a successful issue.

The ship left England on December 21,
1872, and returned to Spithead on May 24,
1876, having been absent a little less than
three and a half years, and making a voyage
of nearly 69,000 miles.

During this voyage 362 observing-sta-
tions were established, at each of which
the depth and bottom temperature of the
ocean were ascertained, and samples of the
water, mud, and animals of the bottom,
brought up for examination.

The direction and rate of currents
were carefully studied, and " serial sound
ings " were made with special instruments
to determine the temperatures at different
depths. Upward of 50,000 meteorological
observations were made during the first
twelve months of the cruise.

The regular work of the expedition be
gan at Teneriffe, from which point a line
of soundings was carried across the Atlan
tic to the small island of Sombrero, a dis
tance of 2,700 miles.

At 1,100 miles from Teneriffe, and 1,600
miles from Sombrero, bottom was found at
3,150 fathoms, which consisted of "per
fectly smooth red clay, with scarcely a trace
of organic matter," but at depths of only
2,200 fathoms the bottom was one mass of
calcareous shells of foraminifera.

The red clay was found to be almost
pure clay and a red oxide of iron with
some manganese. This material is sup

posed by Prof. Thomson to be the residue
or ash from decomposition of the shells.
Experiments were made by Mr. Buchanan,
of the staff of scientists, confirming this
conclusion. He subjected globigerina ooze
to the action of a weak acid, and found
that after the carbonate of lime was re
moved there remained about one per cent.
of a reddish mud, consisting of silica and
alumina, and a red oxide of iron.

The globigerina shells were abundant at
depths not exceeding 2,200 fathoms, but at
greater depths a gray ooze occurred, the
shells being in a state of decomposition ;
in deeper parts this disappeared, leaving
the residuum of red clay.

This clay was found to be widely dis
tributed in both the Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans, and in many places contained con
cretions of the peroxide of manganese.

The specific gravity of ocean-water was
carefully tested by Mr. Buchanan, and very
unexpected results were obtained. The
notion that the specific gravity increases
with increase of depth seems unfounded, as
it was ascertained to be greatest near the
surface, diminishing to a depth of about
500 fathoms. From this downward it is
nearly uniform.

Dredgings at great depths usually
brought to the surface living organisms.
At 3,150 fathoms (upward of three and a
half miles) on the Atlantic cruise, only
foraminifera were found, but other organ-
isms were abundant at similar depths else
where.

By the serial temperatures taken in sev
eral places, it is evident that conditions ex
ist which may greatly modify the distribu
tion of the deep-sea fauna. Near Raine
Island, not far from the entrance to Torres
Straits, there was found at 2,650 fathoms,
with bottom of red clay, a temperature of
35 Fahr. But it was also found that the
same temperature occurred at a depth of
only 1,300 fathoms. Here, then, the waters
through 1,350 fathoms of depth, were of a
uniform temperature. Over a wide area
similar results were obtained, and the con
clusion is, that this area, known as the
Melanesian Sea, is so surrounded by a reef,
rising to within 1,300 fathoms of the sur
face, that free communication of its waters
with the outside ocean is prevented.

Animal life was found to be scarce ill

MISCELLANY.

631

this sea, but sufficient to show that it is
" possible in the still bottom water, although
such conditions in the Mediterranean do
not seem to favor life."

The deepest water was found on the
line from Admiralty Islands to Japan, one
sounding giving the enormous depth of
4,575 fathoms, or five and a half miles.
This is said to be the deepest trustworthy
sounding yet made, excepting two by the
Tuscarora off the east coast of Japan,
where a depth 600 feet greater was found.

One of the results of this expedition has
been to extend a knowledge of the fauna
of the deep oceans, and the forthcoming
work of Prof. Thomson will be brilliant
with illustrations of new and beautiful
forms.

The great voyage is divided into four
sections. The first is from Sheerness, Eng
land, to the Cape of Good Hope, but by the
very roundabout course of St. Thomas,
Bermuda, Halifax, and St. Vincent. The
second section is from the Cape of Good
Hope to Hong-Kong by the way of Austra
lia and the Polynesian Islands. The third
section is from Hong-Kong to Valparaiso,
touching at Japan, the Sandwich Islands,
Tahiti, and Juan Fernandez. The fourth
section is from Valparaiso to Sheerness, ar
riving on the 26th of May last.

Recently-Discovered Fossils. In an ap
pendix to the American Journal of Science
for June, Prof. 0. C. Marsh gives notices
of a new sub-order of Pterosaurians, Pfera-
nodontia, and of three new species of Odon-
tornithes. The distinctive feature of the
sub- order Pteranodontia is the absence of
teeth (hence the name). The new genus
Pteranodon is readily distinguished from
any pterodactyls hitherto described by the
cranial characters, which are well shown in
a nearly perfect skull and portions of
others in the Yale Museum. The cranium
is very large, and the facial portion greatly
elongated. There is a high sagittal crest
which projects backward some distance
beyond the occipital condyle. The maxil
lary bones are closely coossified with the
premaxillary, and the whole forms a long,
slender beak. There are no teeth or sock
ets for teeth in any part of the upper jaws,
and the premaxillary shows some indica

tions of having been incased in a horny
covering. The lower jaws also are long
and pointed in front, and entirely edentu
lous. In several other respects the jaws in
this genus are more like those of birds
than of any known reptiles.

From the same localities, and from the
same geological horizon, the Upper Cre
taceous of Western Kansas, which have
yielded the specimens constituting the sub
order of edentulous Pterosaurians, come the
remains of the Odontornithes, or birds
with teeth, and the two doubtless lived to
gether in the same region. The remains
of one of these birds with teeth indicate a
bird fully six feet in length from the apex
of the bill to the end of the toes. The
femur and the tibia resemble those of some
modern diving-birds, but the toes are
shorter and stouter.

The Prehistoric Pig. In an essay on
"The Prehistoric Pig of Britain," Prof.
Rolleston arrives at the following conclu
sions : 1. The domesticated pig of pre-
Roman times he refers to the wild variety
of Sus scrofa. 2. The Indian wild-hog
(8. cristatus) differs mainly by the retention
of structural conformations which are only
temporarily respresented in the European
wild species. 3. Taking the changes which
domestication produces into account, S.
Indices he conceives to be a modified 8.
cristatus, and not derived from S. leucomys-
tax, or other species. 4. The skull of a
wild-sow from the alluvium at Oxford. pos
sesses such a combination of characters as
to cause the author to hesitate in accepting
the Torfschwein (8. scrofa), variety palustris
of Riitimeyer, as a distinct species. 5. Sim-
plicity of third molars in a large skull of
the Bornean pig (S. barbatus) has no value.
6. The S. verrucosus, in its tear and cheek
bones, differs from the S. barbatus, and
these peculiarities obtained in the old Irish
"greyhound pig" figured by Richardson.

Appropriation of Silica by Plants. Prof.

P. B. Wilson, of Washington University,
Baltimore, having, in a chemical examina
tion of the ash of grasses, discovered that
the silica contained in such ash differs es
sentially from silica reduced from natural
silicates that, in fact, it had been assimi-

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lated by the plant in the free state deter
mined to apply infusorial earth to land sown
in wheat, and afterward with the microscope
to search for the siliceous shields of diato-
maoeae in the straw. Of course, if these
were to be found occurring in the plant with
the same forms which they have in the in
fusorial earth, it is plain that they must
have been taken up by the plant and dis
tributed through its system unaltered. The
event fully justified this conclusion. The
straw having been treated with nitric acid,
the siliceous residuum was placed on the
field of the microscope, and was seen to
consist wholly of the siliceous shields of
diatomaceae, the same as found in the infu
sorial earth, excepting that the larger disks
in their perfect form were absent evident
ly because these disks were not sufficiently
minute to enter the root-capillaries. The
result of these investigations shows the
necessity of finely-divided silica in the soil ;
also, that simple or compound silicates are
useless a8 fertilizing agents.

Forestry. The first of a series of papers
on "European and American Forestry," now
appearing in the Penn Monthly, contains a
brief history of " Deforestation," or devas
tation of forests, in the Old World. The
subject is one that nearly concerns the in
habitants of the United States, where the
process of deforestation advances with un
paralleled rapidity. Among the many in
stances quoted by the author of the evils
consequent on the denudation of woodlands
is that of Sicily, once the granary of Rome,
now almost a waste from the effects of for
est devastation. The island has scarcely a
stream that lasts through the summer, and
few perennial springs. The soil has suffered
deplorably for want of sufficient irriga
tion. Greece, in common with Asia Minor,
has been shorn of its original forests, and
its characteristic feature is represented in
steppes and unproductive barren wastes.
Of Spain it may be said that at one time
one-fifth of its surface was forest ; now the
proportion is only nine per cent. In differ
ent portions of the country noble forests
still exist ; but, on the whole, the destruc
tion of the useful woods has been indiscrim
inate and improvident, and Spain, like all
other countries, has suffered under the

abuse of that universal law according to
which soil and climate depend on the extent
of forest-land.

Air-Bags for raising Ships. Prof St.
Claire, of Edinburgh University, in 1785
proposed the use of air-bags for the pur
pose of raising sunken ships. In 1864 air-
bags were first practically applied for rais
ing a steamer sunk in the lake of Boden ; in
this case the bags, owing to some defect,
gave way. The Alexandrovsky system,
perfected some ten years ago, has already
rendered good service to the Government
and commerce of Russia on several occa
sions. The bags adopted in the Russian
Navy, as we learn from Engineering, are,
when inflated, of cylindrical form, measur
ing twelve feet in diameter and twenty feet
in length. They are composed of three
layers of the thickest canvas saturated with
India-rubber. Their lifting power averages
sixty tons. In order to lift a vessel, several
chains are drawn by divers under her bot
tom, and air-bags attached to the ends of
each of them as near the ship s bottom as
possible : the bags, being inflated by means
of air-pumps, cause the ship to rise. Before
pumping air into the bags, all the chains
are connected in a transverse direction, so
as to form one system, thus preventing the
pairs of bags from sliding off from beneath
the hull of the ship. As the vessel rises
the surrounding water-pressure decreases,
and the excess of air passes out through
safety-valves.

Night -Habits of Fish. Mr. W. Saville
Kent had in the Manchester Aquarium a
number of young herrings, which were so
tame as readily to take their prepared
food from the hand of a keeper. But a
large number of the fishes were found
dead each morning, a fact which seemed in
explicable, considering their quiet behavior
during the day. A night inspection, how
ever, revealed the cause of this rapid de
struction. It was found that the nocturna.1
movements of the herring, at least in con
finement, are altogether different from their
movements in daylight. In the latter case,
these movements are quiet and uniform, the
fish swimming around their tank in one
shoal and one continuous stream. At night,

MISCELLANY.

633

on the contrary, the shoal is entirely broken
up, each fish taking an independent path,
and darting from one sfde of the tank to the
other with surprising agility. It was during
these active nocturnal movements that the
fish struck against the rockworkof the tank
and came to an untimely end ; this mortality,
however, was soon arrested by placing a
dim light over their tank, which illuminated
the outline of the rockwork just sufficiently
to enable them to recognize and avoid it.
With this dim light the fish still retained
their active habits, and it was noticeable
that during these night-hours they were
more than ordinarily alert for food, dashing
vigorously a f , any entomostracan or other
minute organism that passed through the
water. This circumstance would seem to
explain why " drift-net " fishing for herrings
can be carried on successfully only at night,
that being the time when the fish rise to the
surface of the water to feed on the innumer
able organisms that there abound.

Prof. Mayer on Sonnd. Prof. Mayer,
of the Stevens Institute of Technology, read
at the late meeting of the Academy of Sci
ences a paper on the " Sensations produced
by Concurrent and Rapidly - succeeding
Sounds," a synopsis of which appears in
the Tribune. The author showed how cer
tain sounds extinguish the sensation of oth
er sounds. The rule appears to be that,
while low sounds cannot extinguish high
ones, high sounds may obliterate low ones.
He had been led to this course of observa
tion by noticing that the click of a noisy
clock was, at certain intervals, silenced if a
watch was held to the ear. These intervals
of silence, he ascertained, occurred when
the sharp tick of the watch and the low
click of the clock were simultaneous. Then
by various and elaborate devices he satisfied
himself, not only of the general fact, but as
to what balancing of intensities was requi
site. Prof. Mayer proceeded to demonstrate
the application of the rule to musical sounds.
This he made plain to the Academy by
means of apparatus producing a certain low
note from a wind-instrument simultaneously
with the same note several octaves higher
and of greater intensity. The high note
killed, so to speak, the low one. But, on
the other hand, a low note of great intensi

ty was powerless to extinguish a faint high
note: the high note utterly refused to be
drowned by any volume of the lower sound.

Ancient Condition of Great Salt Lake.-
According to Prof. G. K. Gilbert, of Wheel
er s Expedition, the Great Salt Lake of Utah
anciently had an outlet northward, the over
flow being carried to the ocean by the Co
lumbia River. But the Great Salt Lake was
then a great inland sea, as is evidenced by
the existence of an ancient beach 970 feet
higher than the Great Salt Lake of to-day,
and TOO feet higher than Sevier Lake. The
subsequent changes of level are described
as follows by Prof. Gilbert in the American
Journal of Science : " From the upper beach
the water slowly subsided by desiccation,
recording its lingerings in a series of fainter
shore-lines. When it had fallen to the level
of the divide between the Sevier and Salt
Lake Basins, it was separated into two un
equal portions. In one of these the evap
oration exceeded the inflow from rivers, and
the subsidence continued ; in the other the
inflow exceeded the evaporation, and the
surplus was discharged over the divide into
the former portion, just as the surplus of
Utah Lake is now discharged into Great
Salt Lake. In the course of time, as the
climate became drier, this overflow ceased,
but not until it had carved a channel of
some magnitude. This channel is crossed
by the old overland stage-route, and is
known as the Old River-Bed." It is the
opinion of Prof. Gilbert that the humid cli
mate which was marked by this inundation
of Utah was preceded by one as arid as the
present, and that the humidity was a phe
nomenon of the Glacial epoch. A fuller
statement and discussion of the facts will
appear in the forthcoming geological volume
of the " Reports of Wheeler s Surveys."

Spontaneous Hypnotism. A case of
spontaneous hypnotism is described by Dr.
Bouchut in Les Mondes. A little girl of ten
had been apprenticed five months to the
business of making waistcoats. One day,
after a month of steady but not excessive
work, and while sewing a button-hole, she
became unconscious and slept for one hour.
On awaking, she resumed her work, but
with the same result. This hypnotism did

6 34

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

not occur with any other kind of sewing.
The case having now come under the notice
of M. Bouchut, he gave the girl a button
hole to sew. She had hardly sewn three
stitches when she sank from her chair on
the ground, and fell fast asleep. M. Bouchut
raised her up, and noted catalepsy of the
arms and legs, dilatation of the pupil, slow
ness of pulse, and complete insensibility.
She slept for three hours. Next day he made
a similar experiment, when the girl slept
only one hour. While no other kind of sew
ing could affect the girl in this way, M.
Bouchut found that he could produce hyp
notism by causing her to look intently on a
silver pencil held at the distance of ten cen
timetres from the root of her nose. The
case evidently was one of Braid s hypno
tism, only occurring spontaneously, and not
brought on by way of experiment.

Periodic Movements of the Foliage of
Plants. The Abies Nordmanniana, a conif
erous tree now widely diffused on account of
the elegant coloration of its leaves, appears
to bear uniformly whitish foliage, when ob
served in the morning or toward evening, but
when observed in the middle of the day the
green tint seems general. The reason of this
difference is found in the fact that the posi
tion of the leaves on the branch is different
in the daytime from what it is at night ; in
the former case the leaves are spread out
upon the branch and present their upper
surface, producing the greenish aspect of
the foliage ; during the latter period, on the
contrary, it is the lower or whitish surface
that is presented to the observer. Thus
there is a diurnal and a nocturnal position.
As the day declines, the leaves, which at
noon were horizontal, are seen gradually
to erect themselves upon the branch, often
becoming nearly perpendicular to it, and
this movement of erection is accompanied
by a movement of torsion in the basal part
of the leaf, often traversing an arc of 90.

Treatment of Lnnatics by Colored Light,

Medical journals give an account of ex
periments recently made by Dr. Ponza, di
rector of the lunatic asylum at Alessandria,
Piedmont, to determine the influence of the
solar rays on brain-diseases. Dr. Ponza,
having communicated his views to Father

Secchi, was encouraged to study the subject.
In his letter to Dr. Ponza, the Roman as
tronomer expressed the opinion that the
violet rays are of special importance. " Vio
let," he writes, "has something melancholy
and depressive about it ; perhaps violet light
may calm the nervous excitement of mani
acs." He then advises Dr. Ponza to per
form his experiments in rooms with stained-
glass windows, and with the walls painted of
the same color as the glass panes. One
patient, who had been affected with morbid
taciturnity, became gay and affable after
spending three hours in a red chamber ;
another, a maniac who refused all food,
asked for breakfast after having staid
twenty-four hours in the same red chamber.
In a blue chamber a highly-excited madman
became calm in one hour. A patient was
made to pass the night in a violet chamber ;
on the following day he felt himself cured,
and has been very well ever since.

Unhealthy Trades. Among the lectures
delivered by Dr. Richardson before the Lon
don Society of Arts, on " Unhealthy Trades,"
is one devoted to the " Industrial Diseases of
Workers in Earthenware." He shows from
the official statistics that potters are among
the three sections of the population of Eng
land who represent the lowest vitality. The
males of fifteen years and upward die at the
rate of 38 per cent, above the males of all
ages ; and the commencement of this in
creased mortality is at the period when the
men are approaching their prime of life,
namely, at thirty-five years, and it extends
onward to the end of life. Thus where in
the general population 100 males of thirty-
five years die, a proportion equal to 154 pot
ters dies. For the four subsequent incre
ments, namely, forty -five, fifty-five, sixty-
five, and seventy-five years, for 100 deaths
in the general male population, the deaths
among male potters are proportionately 182,
181, 192, 141. The wages of the potters
are good, and the labor not physically se
vere on healthy, fully-developed persons.
The special diseases incident to this kind
of employment are bronchitis with "pot
ter s asthma," pulmonary consumption, and
lead paralysis. Subsidiary to these are
rheumatic affections and affections of the
stomach. The special causes of disease

MISCELLANY.

63,

are : variations of heat and cold, aud con
stant inhalation of dust; these causes pro
duce chronic bronchitis and asthma. The
paralytic diseases are induced by lead ; of
these diseases the victims are the dippers
and the women who assist them. " Could
we," remarks Dr. Richardson, in conclu
sion, "relieve the earthenware manufactur
ers from the two grand causes of disease to
which they are exposed, dust and lead,
though some generations would be required
in order to restore them, as a community,
to perfect vitality, there is no reason why
their death-rate should not, at once, be re
duced to at least half its present excess,
and the steady progress of their vital re
generation be immediately commenced."

Effects of Cold on Milk. The effect of
cold upon milk has been made a subject of
experiment by M. Eugene Tisserand, who
finds that if cow s milk is immediately, or
soon after being drawn, placed in vessels at
various temperatures between freezing-point
and 90 Fahr., and the initial temperature
maintained for twenty-four or thirty-six
hours, the nearer the temperature of the
milk is to freezing-point the more rapid is
the collection of cream, the more consider
able is the quantity of cream, the amount
of butter is greater, and the skimmed milk,
the butter, and the cheese, are of better qual
ity. These facts, he believes, may be ex
plained by Pasteur s observations on fer
ments. It is probable that the refrigeration
arrests the development of living organisms
and hinders the changes due to their growth.
The facts stated indicate room for great
improvement in the methods of storage and
preservation of milk. To keep milk at its
original quality, extreme cleanliness and a
low temperature are absolutely necessary.
In the north of Europe the value of cold is
already recognized, and in warmer climates
the need of its assistance is greater.

Coal-Gas as a Fuel. The use of coal-gas
in the place of gross fuel for the purposes
of heating and cooking is rapidly coming
into public favor in England. In this coun
try the high price of gas is doubtless the
principal reason why this most convenient
form of fuel has not been more widely
adopted, in the place of coal. The advan

tages of gas are manifold, and are clearly
set forth in a paper read by Mr. John Wal
lace at a meeting of the London Society for
the Promotion of Scientific Industry. First,
we can absolutely control the amount of gas
consumed and the degree of heat produced.
In cooking, this control of the degree of
heat is of the utmost importance : too quick
or too slow a fire must result in bad cook
ing. Now, the heat of a coal-fire is very
irregular, and is liable to be affected by so
many circumstances that constant attention
is required to keep it in the proper condi
tion for delicate operations. Then, in point
of cleanliness and facility of application,
gas-stoves are far superior to coal-stoves.
" The increasing cost of household labor,"
adds Mr. Wallace, " renders it highly prob
able that the same measure of success
awaits the domestic application of gas as
has already established the sewing-machine
among our household gods. It is to be
hoped that among the numberless schemes
of gas-manufacture which have recently
been made public we may soon be provided
with a gas which shall be sufficiently cheap
and plentiful to be used not only for light
ing and heating in private dwellings, but also
for trade and manufacturing purposes in
workshop and warehouse."

Toxic Action of Putrid Blood. The in
fluence of various conditions upon the toxic
property of blood has been investigated by
V. Feltz, whose results, as communicated to
the Paris Academy of Sciences, are briefly
stated in the Lancet. He first determined
the effects on a healthy dog. The injection
of from one to three cubic centimetres
caused all the symptoms of intense blood*
poisoning in from three to eight days. Ex
posure to the air for periods of 24 to 96
hours made no difference in the toxic prop
erties of the blood ; exposure to compressed
air for 24 to 144 hours was also without ef
fect. Exposure to oxygen had different re
sults, according to the time of exposure.
Contact with oxygen for from 6 to 72 hours
had no effect. Animals injected with blood
which had been exposed to oxygen for 96
to 216 hours recovered after five or six days
illness. The result was the same with blood
through which a continuous stream of oxy
gen was passed. A ver.v similar effect was

636

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

produced by exposure of the blood to a
vacuum for many hours. A second series
of experiments was to determine the in
fluence of time on poisonous material.
When the putrefied blood was kept so
long that no living bodies could be discov
ered in it by microscopical examination,
the same toxic effects were produced by
its injection, but were less intense. Pu
trefied blood was then dried by slow expos
ure to the air, powdered, mixed with dis
tilled water, and injected. The effects were
not, as in the other cases, immediately mani
fest. After four to six days of incubation,
the animals became ill ; some died, others
recovered. M. Feltz concludes that, as ex
posure to a vacuum and desiccation did not
remove the toxic agent, it cannot be a gas ;
that activity on the part of the minute mov
ing particles within it is not necessary for
its septic effect ; and that the development
of bacteria, etc., in the blood of the animals
injected, points to the germs of those bacte
ria as being the probable efficient means of
the production of the poisonous effects.

Ostrich-Farming. Ostrich-farming has
within the past few years attained a remark
able development in South Africa. We pre
sent to our readers a few notes upon this
new industry, taken from an address by Mr.
P. L. Simmonds before the London Society
of Arts. The climate in all parts of the
Cape Colony is said to be alike favorable
to the growth and production of the ostrich,
and there are but few districts of the colony
where this industry is not carried on. Mr.
A. Douglas, of Hilton, appears to have been
the first systematic breeder of ostriches in
the Cape Colony. About eight years ago
he bought a pair of birds, and subsequently
added four more, making in all two cocks
and four hens. By means of an incubator
he succeeded in raising from these six birds
130 young ostriches in one season. The
ostrich-farm of Mr. Kinnear, of West Beau
fort, consists of eight acres of land, inclosed
with fences. In this inclosure, which is
sown with lucern, thirty ostriches are kept.
There are two methods of obtaining the
feathers, plucking them, and cutting them a
little above the roots, which are removed
two months afterward. Mr. Kinnear pre
fers the latter mode. The first plucking

takes place when the bird is about eight
months old, but the feathers are then not
of much value. The operation is renewed
every eight months. Three pluckings of
birds in full plumage realized to Mr. Kin-
near 240, or 120 per annum, that is, 8
per bird.

In the wild state, five female ostriches
are often attached to one male, and they all
lay their eggs in one nest, and sit on them
in turn. Mr. Kinnear, however, only assigns
one female to each male. They are coupled
in July (the second month of winter), and
commence laying in August, and continue
laying for about six weeks, after which they
sit till October. A month or six weeks
later, they recommence to lay for about five
weeks, provided the young brood are re
moved. In forming the nest a large hole
scraped in the sand the male bird is most
assiduous, and when all is ready the laying
of the eggs commences. From fifteen to
twenty eggs are laid and carefully arranged
in the nest. The male bird usually sits by
night, the female morning and evening; in
the wild state the birds frequently leave the
nest untended during the heat of the day.

Ostriches are, comparatively, inexpen
sive to keep, as during three-fourths of the
year they require only a little artificial food,
the grass produced on the farm being nearly
sufficient for their maintenance ; during the
remaining fourth, they only need some sup
plemental supplies of green food, with a
little Indian-corn. Each ostrich eats about
twenty pounds of lucern a day.

Culture of the Cochineal Cactus. The

culture of the cochineal cactus was intro
duced into the Canary Islands in 1840.
This plant, as indicated by its name, is the
favorite food of the cochineal insect, whose
body furnishes the well-known dyestuff

ochineal. The culture developed rapidly,
still for some years the supply of cochineal
fell short of the demand. In 1848 prices
varied from eleven to twelve francs per
pound Spanish, the cost of production not
exceeding 25 per cent, of this sum. A

cochineal mania " was the result, and all
other crops had to give way before cochi
neal. Prices began to fall under the in
fluence of this excessive production, and
from 1860 to 1870 the cochineal sold for

MISCELLANY.

637

five to six francs, arid there has been a
steady decline ever since. In 1870 the
price was four francs, in 1871 3.50 francs,
in 1872 three francs, in 1873 2.50 francs.
There is now a very general disposition to
abandon this culture, and since 1872 the
amount produced has been growing less
from year to year. This decline is also, in
a great measure, due to the introduction of t
new dyestuffs of mineral origin.

Detection of Arsenic in Organic Matter.

Dr. Armand Gautier proposes a new meth
od for separating arsenic from animal mat
ters, and for detecting its presence. By
combining the sulphuric-acid and the nitric-
acid processes he has obtained very satisfac
tory results, as regards both the rapidity of
the operation and the exactness of the deter
minations. He first treats the matter sup
posed to contain arsenic with nitric acid,
then with sulphuric acid, and finally with
nitric acid again. By the first operation
the organic substances are disaggregated ;
by the second they are destroyed very rap
idly, and by the third, with the addition of
more nitric acid, the last traces of organic
matter are eliminated, while the formation
of sulphide of arsenic is prevented. Having
made a number of quantitative experiments,
M. Gautier never met with a discrepancy
amounting to so much as one-tenth of a
milligramme between the amount of arsen
ic introduced and that found.

Timidity of Birds, Dr. J. G. Cooper, in
the Naturalist, comments on the "sociable
and confiding disposition " of the birds of the
Western United States, compared with the
same species eastward. This difference,
he remarks, has been noticed by several
writers, but the reasons have so far been
scarcely mentioned. According to the au
thor, the chief reason is that in the West
bird-collectors and idle boys are less numer
ous, while sportsmen find larger game so
plenty that they do not waste ammunition
on small birds. Besides this, the prevalence
of prairies over most of the Western region
makes any garden full of trees and shrubs
a rare nursery for the woodland species,
where they find more protection from hawks
and weasels than in their native groves,
while they may also levy a small contribu
tion on the fruits in return for the insects

they destroy, and their lively songs. In
California, the poison intended for ground-
squirrels has also destroyed millions of birds
about the fields, and left them unhurt in
gardens.

Fattening Oysters. Salt oysters, on be
ing transferred to fresh water, are " fat
tened " in the course of two or three 4ays ;
if allowed to remain longer they become
lean again, and are flavorless. Prof. Per-
sifor Frazer, of the Academy of Natural
Sciences of Philadelphia, holds that this
change cannot be due to an increase of
flesh, and attributes it rather to a simple
distention of the tissues, owing to the ad
mission into them of a greater quantity of
fluid. During the oyster s period of growth
on the sea-coast, its tissues are constantly
saturated with the ocean-brine ; on remov
ing the animal to merely brackish or to
fresh water, the conditions are at once fa
vorable for osmose to be commenced. The
fresher and less dense liquid without per
meates inward more rapidly than the more
salire and denser liquids within escape, and
the effect is to swell the tissue, as a cow s
bladder half filled with air and immersed in
a vessel of hydrogen is swollen, or still
more nearly like the swelling of a bladder
half filled with copper sulphate when im
mersed in water. " It is worth while to in
quire," adds Prof. Frazer, " whether means
could not be devised to effect this fattening
while yet not depriving the oyster of the
salty flavor which is its chief charm to many
consumers. Perhaps an immersion in con
centrated brine for several days and its sub
sequent removal to ocean-water would suf
fice."

" Shooting-Stars." We make a few se
lections from an interesting paper on " Shoot
ing-Stars," by Prof. C. A. Young, published
in the Boston Journal of Chemistry. These
shooting-stars, he says, are very small, for
the most part weighing certainly not more
than a few grains, and possibly only some
thousandths of a grain mere particles or
cloudlets of dust, which are traveling in
space under the same laws as those which
govern the motions of the planets and com
ets, and with a velocity as great. Their
least velocity is more than thirty times that
of a cannon-ball. When they encounter

638

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

our atmosphere, this velocity is destroyed
by the resistance, and, according to well-
known laws, their energy of motion is con
verted into heat of intensity sufficient to
render them incandescent, and even to dis
sipate any solid portions in vapor. Their
numbers are very great. About forty per
hour is a fair average for one station, or
nearly one thousand each day. If the calcu
lation is carried out for the whole earth, al
lowing that at each station all are observed
which come within a circle two hundred
miles in diameter, the total number reach
ing the earth daily is found to be about five
million ; indeed, Prof. Newton, who is per
haps the highest authority on this subject,
sets the number still higher, at seven and
a half million. A curious fact is, that the
hourly numbers increase from sunset to
sunrise by some fifty per cent. The reason
is simply that in the evening we are, so to
speak, behind the earth as it rushes through
space, and see only those which overtake
us ; in the morning, on the other hand, we
are in front, and see all we meet, as well as
those we overtake.

The most remarkable discovery of re
cent times in respect to these bodies re
mains to be mentioned. It is found that in
four well-marked cases the orbits of impor
tant meteoric swarms coincide exactly with
the orbits of well-known comets ; that the
swarm of meteors follows in the wake of
the comet and is somehow connected with
it. The discovery dates from 1866, when
Schiapparelli first proved the connection
between the Leonids (November meteors)
and Temple s comet. Since then the same
thing has been shown of the Perseids, Ly-
rids, and Bielids.

Canse of the Aurora. According to
Groneman s hypothesis, an account of which
is given in the Academy, there are streams
of minute iron particles circulating around
the sun like the well-known meteor-streams,
and these, when they come near the earth,
are attracted by its poles, and form fila
ments stretching out into space, in the same
way as iron-filings, sprinkled on paper, ar
range themselves in lines under the influ
ence of a magnet underneath, each particle
attracting the next by virtue of its induced
magnetism. Groneman refers the phenom
enon of the aurora to the ignition of this

cosmical iron-dust in its passage through
air, the distinction between this and an or
dinary meteor-shower being that, on account
of the filamentous arrangement of the par
ticles in the direction of the dipping needle,
streamers are formed, which by an effect of
perspective appear to radiate from a point
in that direction, and therefore nearly over-
head. It is necessary to suppose that this
meteor-stream is traveling nearly in the
same direction as the earth, and Groneman
enters into elaborate calculations to show
that the velocity of the particles would not
be too great to permit the magnetic at
traction to form filaments of 200 miles in
length.

Dr. Roberts on Spontaneous Generation.

Dr. William Roberts, of Owens College,
Manchester, whose experiments were quoted
by Dr. Bastian, in a recent communication,
as favoring the doctrine of the spontaneous
generation of bacteria, contradicts this in
terpretation of the results of his investiga
tions. " On the contrary," writes Dr. Rob
erts, " the weight of my experiments is en
tirely against him " (Bastian), " and in fa
vor of Pasteur s conclusions. It appears to
me," he adds, " that the attitude of Dr.
Bastian on the question of the origin of
bacteria arises from what I may call the
inverted significance which he attaches to
the two contrasted results barrenness or
fertility which follow after boiling an or
ganic infusion. Throughout the controversy
Dr. Bastian speaks of the barren tubes and
flasks as failures, or negative results ;
and he evidently regards the fertile tubes
and flasks as successful experiments, hav
ing the force and authority of positive
results. The true view is just the reverse
of this : it is the barren flask that has the
character of a positive result. For what
does the experimenter set himself to do in
these experiments ? He seeks to destroy,
by boiling, all preexisting bacteria in these
infusions, and to leave unimpaired their
powers of promoting the growth of bacteria.
And it is found, in fact, that this latter
quality is perfectly preserved in boiled in
fusions ; for they breed bacteria with the
utmost luxuriance when they are reinfected
from an extraneous source. . . . When I
take up one of the flasks or bulbs which
have remained barren in my chamber for

NOTES.

639

three or four years, though supplied with
air (filtered through cotton-wool) and suit
able heat, my wonder never ceases. Each
one is a new experiment, every day repeat
ed, and multiplied indefinitely ; day after
day I ask myself, * Why does it not germi
nate ? I compare it to a field in spring
not yet sown, but ready for the reception
of the seed : for if I withdraw the plug of
cotton-wool and admit the dust of the air,
or introduce a drop of water, all is changed ;
in a few hours the stillness of years gives
place to life and activity. I repeat, it is
the fertile flask, and not the barren flask,
that wears the complexion of a failure and
of a negative result."

NOTES.

THE American Association for the Ad
vancement of Science meets this year at
Buffalo, the sessions commencing August
23d. William B. Rogers, of Boston, is
President ; Charles A. Young, Dartmouth
College, Vice-President Section A; E. S.
Morse, Salem, Mass., Vice-President Section
B ; Thomas Mendenhall, Columbus, Ohio,
General Secretary.

THE Entomological Club of the Ameri
can Association for the Advancement of
Science will meet at Buffalo, N. Y., on the
22d of August, in quarters provided by the
local committee of the Association. All
interested in the subject of entomology are
invited to attend, and to repair at first to
the Tifft House for instructions.

THE French Association for the Ad
vancement of Science will hold its meetings
this year at Clermont-Ferrand, commencing
August 17th. The President of the Asso
ciation is M. Dutcas, of the Academic des
Sciences.

THE Agassiz Museum at Cambridge,
Mass., has passed from the hands of the
special board of trustees, and is now the
property of Harvard College. Besides the
real and personal property of the museum,
the college comes into the possession of
$115,000 in money, as also over $310,000
constituting the " Agassiz Memorial Fund."

THE General Council of the British As
sociation has fixed Wednesday, September
Gth, as the date of opening this year s ses
sions. The place of meeting is the city of
Glasgow. The authorities of the Glasgow
University have tendered to the Associa
tion the free use of the commodious build
ings situated in the western district of the
city. A guarantee fund of 4,000 will be

raised toy the citizens of Glasgow ; of this
sum the city corporation gives 500. Sir R.
Christison, who was elected President last
year, has resigned on account of ill-health,
and Dr. Andrews, Vice-President of Queen s
College, Belfast, has been elected in his
place.

A CORRESPONDENT sends us an account
of the passage of a brilliant meteor, unusual
ly large and bright, over Northern Indiana,
Northern Ohio, and Southwestern Michigan,
on the evening of July 8th, at precisely
nine o clock. An observer at Elkhart, In
diana, says at that place it seemed almost
exactly overhead, and its course began
very near 61 Cygni, and ended about 5
south of Ursa Minor. The illumination
was as bright as that of a full moon, and
was of a greenish-yellow light. The whole
pathway was visible for fifteen minutes,
and for half an hour a bright, hazy spot,
about 6 long and 3 wide, could be seen
near the middle of the pathway. No
sound accompanied the movement of the
flaming body, and at last it disappeared in
a sort of bluish light, very brilliant at first,
but growing hazy, and finally disappearing.
Judging from its height, if it descended to
earth at all it must have fallen into Lake
Michigan. The course of the body was as
straight as an arrow, but its fiery trail very
so on assumed the serpentine appearance
that would naturally be caused by the at
mospheric currents.

DIED, recently, in London, at the age of
seventy-five years, Edward Newman, F. L.
S., F. Z. S., editor of the Zoologist and the
Entomologist, two serial publications which
have attained considerable success among
amateurs of entomology and natural his
tory in England.

THREE years ago there was founded at
Boston a " Society to encourage Studies
at Home." The number of students who
received encouragement from the Society
during the first year of its existence was
45, the second year 82, the third year 298.
In making choice of studies to be pursued,
127 selected history, 118 English literature,
44 science, 36 art, 19 German, and 16
French.

PROP. C. WYVILLE THOMSON, director of
the scientific staff of the Challenger, has
received the honor of knighthood from
Queen Victoria.

A PIECE of telegraph-cable, the rubber
covering of which had been pierced by
grass, was exhibited at a meeting of the
Bengal Asiatic Society; the efficiency of
the cable was thus destroyed. The species
of the grass, owing to its dried-up condi
tion, could not be determined. It was sug
gested, as a probable explanation, that the

640

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

seeds had become attached to the core
when under water, and had afterward ger
minated when the core was stored.

PROF. BRUDENELL CARTER, in an address
on the " Relations of Ophthalmology to
General Surgery," takes the ground that,
while the growth of specialism in this de
partment has given us improved operations
and more dexterous operators, it has re
tarded investigation by diminishing the
number of laborers in the field, and the
opportunities of those laborers to study
the facts from the standpoint of general
pathology.

AN Italian chemist, A. Casali, obtains a
green pigment by calcining an intimate
mixture of one part of bichromate of potash
and three parts of baked gypsum, of the
variety known as scagliola. The result is
a grass-green mass which, on boiling with
water, or mixing with dilute hydrochloric
acid, leaves a fine powder of an intense
green.

REICHARDT recommends the use of the
microscope in determining the mineral con
tents of potable water. On evaporating a
few drops on a plate of glass, it is easy to
distinguish carbonate and sulphate of lime
and of magnesia, chloride of sodium, and
nitrate of potash and of soda. C. Bischof
further recommends the use of the same
instrument for determining the organic sub
stances contained in water.

A SCHEME has been recently devised for
supplying London with an inflammable mixt
ure of gases to replace coal. The new gas,
" pyrogen," as it is called, is a mixture of
nitrogen and carbonic oxide, three-fourths
by weight consisting of the latter gas. The
combustion temperature of pyrogen is stated
to be 2,700 Cent., and for heating-purposes
the flame of the burning gas is to be allowed
to raise some good radiating substance to
incandesence in an ordinary grate.

FELIZET, of Elbeuf, having observed that
in epidemics of foot-and-mouth disease no
beast affected with cow-pox is ever stricken
with the former disorder, vaccinated thirty
oxen, and not one of the twenty-five beasts
effectually vaccinated showed any sign of
foot-and-mouth disease, even after living for
months among animals largely affected with
it.

PROP. STANLEY JEVONS is opposed to
the project of assimilating the American
dollar to the English pound sterling ; he
advocates, rather, assimilation to the five-
franc piece. The partial accession of the
United States to the franc system would,
he says, immensely increase the motives for
the English to accept it also, thus prepar
ing the way for an international coinage.

FOR the purpose of photographing solar
eclipses, Mr. Brothers, of the Royal Astro
nomical Society of London, suggests that at
least three achromatic lenses of five or six
feet focal length, corrected for the actinic
rays, should be constructed, with all suita
ble apparatus, to be in readiness for use
when required. The light of the corona, he
adds, is sufficiently actinic to produce good
pictures when an instrument of long focus
is used it is only a question of time in the
exposure and accuracy in the adjustment
of the driving-clock apparatus attached to
the equatorial mounting.

THE cruelty-to-animals bill, now under
consideration in the British Parliament,
provides that vivisection should only be
performed Avith a view to the advancement
of human knowledge, the prolongation of
human life, or the alleviation of human suf
fering ; that it must take place in a regis
tered laboratory ; that it must be performed
by a person duly licensed ; that the animals
must be put under the influence of anaes
thetics ; and that, where pain would be pro
longed after the anaesthetic effects had sub
sided, the animals should be killed.

IN their last report, the Commissioners
in Lunacy in England discourage the prac
tice, which has grown to be quite general,
of filling up the asylums with idiots, imbe
ciles, and eccentric or troublesome paupers,
to the exclusion of the really insane, who
need and are entitled to the skill, care, and
attention, that asylums are intended to af
ford.

THE Commission Superieure of the Paris
Exposition of 1878 has decided upon the
general plan of the enterprise, and esti
mated the probable receipts. The expense
is set down at 35,000,000 francs, and the
receipts at 19,000,000 ; difference, 16,000,-
000 francs. To meet this deficit, the city
of Paris will contribute 6,000,000 francs,
and the state 10,000,000 francs. The
buildings for the exposition will be erected
in the Champ de Mars and in the Troca-
dero localities situated on opposite banks
of the river Seine. At first, it was proposed
to widen temporarily the bridge known as
Pont d lena, but soon another project was
entertained that of erecting a new bridge
forty metres in width. The question is yet
under deliberation.

IN the petroleum-mines of Alsace the
miners test their safety-lamps in the follow
ing manner before going down the pits : At
the bottom of an open jar is placed a small
quantity of petroleum-spirit, the vapor of
which, mingling with the air in the jar,
forms an explosive mixture. The lamp is
plunged into this mixture, and the slightest
defect in the lamp is proved by an explosion.

GEOKGE HENRY LEWES.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

OCTOBER, 1876.

THE CONSTANTS OF COLOR

BY PROF. 0. N. KOOD,

OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE.

THE tints produced by Nature and art are so manifold, often so
vague and indefinite, so affected by their environment, or by
the illumination under which they are seen, that at first it might well
appear as though nothing about them were constant ; as though they
had no fixed properties which could be used in reducing them to
order, and in arranging in a simple but vast series the immense mul
titude of which they consist.

Let us examine the matter more closely. We have seen that when
a single set of waves acts on the eye a color-sensation is produced,
which is perfectly well defined, and which can be indicated with pre
cision by referring it to some portion of the spectrum. We have
also found that, when waves of light having all possible lengths act
on the eye simultaneously, the sensation of white is produced. Let
us suppose that by the first method a definite color-sensation is gener
ated, and afterward by the second method the sensation of white is
added to it: white light is added to or mixed with colored light.
This mixture may be accomplished with an ordinary spectroscope, by
removing the scale from the scale-telescope, and replacing it by a
vertical slit, as indicated in Fig. 1, which is a view from above. Then,
if white light be allowed to enter this slit, it will be reflected from
the surface of the prism into the observing-telescope, and we shall
find that the spectrum is crossed by a vertical band of white light.
By moving with the hand the scale-telescope, this white band may be
made to travel slowly over the whole spectrum, and furnish us with
a series of mixtures of white light with the various prismatic tints.
(See Fig. 2.) The general effect of this proceeding will be to diminish
the action of the colored light ; the resultant light will indeed pre-

TOL. IX. 41

6 4 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

sent to the eye more light, but it will appear paler ; the color-element
will begin to be pushed into the background. Conversely, if we now
should subject our mixture of white and colored light to analysis by
a second spectroscope, we should infallibly detect the presence of the
white as well as of the colored light; or, if no white light were pres
ent, that would also be equally apparent.

Fia. 1. is the observing-telescope ; 8 the scale-telescope ; L the source of light which furnishes
the spectrum ; W the white light which is projected on the spectrum.

Taking all this into consideration, it is evident that when a par
ticular color is presented to us we can affirm that it is perfectly pure,
viz., entirely free from white light ; or that it contains mingled with
it a larger or smaller proportion of this foreign element. This fur
nishes us with our first clew toward a classification of colors : our
pure standard colors are to be those found in the spectrum; the col
ored light coining from the surfaces of natural objects, or from painted
surfaces, we must compare with the tints of the spectrum. If this is
done, in almost every case the presence of more or less white light will
be detected ; in the great majority of instances its preponderance
over the colored light will be found quite marked. To illustrate by
an example: If white paper be painted with vermilion, and compared
with a solar spectrum, it will be found that it corresponds in general
tone with a certain portion of the red space; but the two colors never
match perfectly, that from the paper always appearing too pale. If,
now, white light be added to the pure spectral tint, by reflecting a
small amount of it into the observing-telescope, it will become possi
ble to match the two colors, and, if we know what proportion of white
light has been added, we can afterward say that the light reflected

THE CONSTANTS OF COLOR. 643

from the vermilion consists, for example, of eighty per cent, of red
light from such a region of the spectrum, plus twenty per cent, of
white light. If we set the amount of light reflected by white paper
as 100, then a surface painted with " emerald-green " reflects about
eight parts of white light ; artificial ultramarine, two or three parts ;
red lead, seven or eight, etc. Some white light is always present ;
its general effect is to soften the color and reduce its action on the
eye; when the proportion of white is very large, only a faint reminis
cence of the original hue remains ; we say the tint is greenish-gray,

FIG. 2. SPECTRUM CROSSED BY BAND OF SUPERIMPOSED WHITE LIGHT.

bluish-gray, or reddish-gray. The specific effects produced by the
mixture of white with colored light will be considered in a future
chapter ; it is enough for us at present to have obtained an idea of
one of the constants of color, viz., its purity. The same word, it
may be observed, is often used by artists in an entirely different
sense: they will remark of a painting that it is noticeable for the
purity of its color, meaning only that the tints in it have no tendency
to look dull or dirty, but not at all implying the absence of white or
gray light.

Next let us suppose that in our study of these matters we have
presented to us for examination two colored surfaces, which we find
reflect in both cases eight-tenths red light and two-tenths white light.
In spite of this the tints may not match, one of them being much
brighter than the other, containing, say, twice as much red light and
twice as much white light ; having, in other words, twice as great
brightness or luminosity. The only mode of causing the tints to
match will be to expose the darker-colored surface to a stronger light,
or the brighter surface to one that is feebler. It is evident, then, that
brightness or luminosity is one of the properties by which we can
define color ; it is our second color-constant. This word luminosity
is also often used by artists in an entirely different sense, they calling
color in a painting luminous simply because it recalls to the mind
the impression of light, not because it actually reflects much light to

644 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the eye. The term bright color is sometimes used in a somewhat
analogous sense, but the ideas are so totally different that there is
little risk of confusion.

The practical determination of the second constant is possible in
a great many cases ; it presents itself always in the shape of a rather
troublesome photometric problem, capable of a more or less accurate
solution. The relative brightness of the colors of the solar spectrum
is one of the most interesting of these problems, as its solution would
serve to give some idea of the relative brightness of the colors,
which, taken together, constitute white light. Quite recently a set
of measurements were made in different regions of the spectrum by
Vierordt, who denoted the points measured by the fixed lines, as is
usual in such studies. 1 The following table will serve to give an idea
of his results :

Color. Degree of Luminosity.

Dark red 800

Red 4,930

Red, slightly orange 11,000

Orange red 27,730

Orange 69,850

Yellow 78,910

Green 30,330

Cyan blue 11,000

Blue 4,930

Ultramarine blue 906

Violet 359

" 131

" 58

" 9

These measurements were made on a spectrum obtained by a glass
prism, which, as has been mentioned in a previous chapter, contracts
the red, orange, and yellow spaces unduly, and hence increases their
illumination disproportionately. It is to be hoped that a correspond
ing set of measurements will soon be made on the normal spectrum,
furnished by a ruled plate. If we should multiply the luminosity of
the colors in either kind of spectrum by their extent or areas, we
should obtain measures of the relative amounts of these several tints
in white light.

By the simple method of rotating disks we can very roughly de
termine the second constant in the case of a colored surface, for ex
ample, of paper tinted with vermilion. A circular disk, about six
inches in diameter, is cut from the paper, and placed on a rotation
apparatus, as indicated in Fig. 3. On the same axis is fastened a
double disk of black-and-white paper, so arranged that the propor
tions of black-and-white can be varied at will. When the whole is set
in rapid rotation, the color of the vermilion paper will of course not

1 C. Vierordt, Poggendorfs Annalen, Band cxxxvii., S. 200.

THE CONSTANTS OF COLOR. 645

be altered ; but the black-and-white will blend into a gray. This
gray can be altered in its brightness till it seems about as luminous
as the red. If we find, for example, that with the disk three-quarters
black and one-quarter white an equality appears to be established,
we conclude that the luminosity of our red surface is twenty-five per
cent, of that of white paper. This is of course based on the supposition
that the black paper reflects no light ; it actually reflects from two
to five per cent., the reflecting power of white paper being put at
100. The results thus obtained are always inexact, and the same ob-

FIG. 3. COLORED DISK WITH SMALL BLACK-AND-WHITE FIG. 4. COLORED BISK WITH

DISK. SMALL BLACK-AND-WHITE

DISK IN ROTATION.

server will often obtain different results on different days, though
those of a single day may agree pretty well among themselves. In
the appendix to this chapter, a peculiar photometer will be described,
which has been contrived by the author for the purpose of comparing
more accurately together the relative luminosity of different colored
surfaces, or that of colored and white surfaces.

But to resume our search for color-constants. We may meet with
two portions of colored light, having the same degree of purity and
the same apparent brightness, which nevertheless appear to the eye
totally different ; one may excite the sensation of blue, the other that
of red ; we say the tones are entirely different. The tone of the color
is, then, our third and last constant, or, as the physicist would say, the
degree of refrangibility, or the wave-length of the light. It has in a
previous chapter been shown that the spectrum offers all possible tones
except the purples, well arranged in an orderly series ; and the purples
themselves can be produced with some trouble, by causing the blue
or violet of the spectrum to mingle in certain proportions with the
red. Rutherford s automatic six-prism spectroscope can very con
veniently be employed for the determination of the tone. (See Fig.
5.) A peculiar eye-piece is to be used, which isolates a little slice
of the spectrum in its upper half, as indicated in Fig. 6. In the lower
half of the field the fixed lines are seen, and the tone selected as match-

6 4 6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ing the color under examination can be located by their aid. After
ward, if it is considered desirable, white light can be added to the
spectral tint, till it is subdued sufficiently to render exact comparison
possible.

FIG. 5. FAC-SIMILE OF RUTHERFORD S DRAWING OF SIX-PEISM SPECTROSCOPE. (American Jour
nal of Sciences and Arts, 1865.)

The experimental determination of the color-constants is beset
with a considerable amount of difficulty, even in the simplest cases,
such as cardboards covered with pigments. The best mode of pro
ceeding appears to be to call the luminosity of white cardboard 100,
and then to determine photometrically the comparative luminosity
of the colored cardboards. The measurement of the amount of white
light reflected along with the colored is still more troublesome, and
the result likely to be somewhat less exact, while the determination
of the tone, or third constant, is moderately easy under favorable
circumstances. One of the uses of such determinations is the pro-

THE CONSTANTS OF COLOR.

647

Auction of a set of standard colored disks with known constants, which
can afterward be combined with each other, as well as with standard
black or white disks, so as to generate at will, with ease and certainty,
an immense number of tints whose constants will be known. If we
make a record of the constants involved in such experiments, we can
afterward reproduce the tints just as they originally were, or alter
them to any desirable extent. To carry out the letter of this it will
of course be necessary to view the standard disks under similar illu
minations at different times, a point which can be secured with the

FIG. 6. EYE-PIECE FOR ISOLATING THE TINTS OF THE SPECTRUM.

aid of the photometer above referred to. The standard disks can
also be used for building up a set of standard charts, containing a
vast variety of tints of known composition, arranged methodically
with regard to purity, luminosity, and tone. These matters will be
considered at some length in a separate chapter, and are now only
hinted at as a justification for the trouble we have been at in defining
the constants of color.

There is another point to be touched on in this connection. One
of the most noticeable things about colors is their difference in in
tensity. Colors are intense when they excel both in purity and bright
ness ; for it is quite evident that, however pure the colored light may
be, it still will produce very little effect on the eye if its total quan
tity be small ; and, on the other hand, it is plain that its action on
the same organ will not be considerable if it is diluted with much
white light. Purity and brightness, or luminosity, are, then, the fac
tors on which intensity depends. We shall see hereafter that this is
strictly true only within certain limits, and that an inordinate in
crease of luminosity is attended with a loss of intensity of hue.

Having defined the three constants of color, it will be interesting

to inquire into the sensitiveness of the eye in these directions. This

subject has lately been studied with care by Aubert, who made an

extensive set of observations with the aid of colored disks. 1 It was

1 Aubert, " Physiologic der Netzhaut," Breslau, 1865.

648 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

found that the addition of one part of white light to 360 parts of
pure colored light produced a change which was perceptible to the
eye ; smaller amounts failed to bring about this result. It was also
ascertained that mingling pure colored light with from 120 to 180
parts of white light caused it to become invisible, the hue being no
longer distinguishable from white. Differences in luminosity as small
as T |._ to T -J~g- could under favorable circumstances be perceived. It
hence followed that irregularities in the illumination or distribution
of piginent over a surface, which were smaller than T ^ of the total
amount of light reflected, could no longer be noticed by the eye.
Experiments with red, orange, and blue disks were made on the sen
sitiveness of the eye to changes of tone or refrangibility ; thus the
combination of the blue disk with a minute portion of the red disk
altered its hue by moving it a little toward violet ; on reversing the
case, or adding a little blue to the red disk, the tone of the latter
moved in the direction of purple. Similar combinations were made
with the other disks. Aubert ascertained, in this way, that recogniz
able changes of tone could be produced by the addition of quanti
ties of colored light as small as from T J^ to -j^- of the total amount
of light involved. From such data he calculated that in a solar
spectrum at least 1,000 distinguishable tones are visible. But we can
still recognize these tones when the light producing them is subjected
to considerable variation in brightness. Let us limit ourselves to
1,000 slight variations, which we can produce by gradually increasing
the brightness of our spectrum, till it finally is ten times as luminous
as it originally was. This will furnish us with a million tones, differ
ing perceptibly from each other. If each of these tones is again
varied 300 times, by the addition of different quantities of white
light, it carries up the number of hues we are able to distinguish as
high as 300,000,000. In this calculation no account is taken of the
purples, or of colors which are very bright or very faint, or mixed
with very much white light. For these it will hardly be extravagant
to demand another 100,000,000 ; we reach thus the astonishing con
clusion that the human eye under favorable circumstances is able to
distinguish as many as 400,000,000 different hues !

THE PROBABLE AGE OF .THE WORLD. 649

MODERN PHILOSOPHERS ON THE PROBABLE AGE
OF THE WORLD. 1

A SHORT time ago Sir William Thomson took occasion, at a
meeting of the Geological Society of Glasgow, to make a some
what startling statement. He said that the tendency of British popu
lar geology was, at the time he spoke, in direct opposition to the
principles of natural philosophy.

So strong an opinion expressed by the man who is, perhaps, fore
most in this country in applied mathematics and natural science,
naturally attracted great attention, and it is not too much to say that
in the six years which have since elapsed a very great change has
taken place in the views of those best able to form an opinion on the
subject of Sir William Thomson s animadversions.

Whether or not we are correct in saying that such a change has
actually taken place in educated public opinion, it is the object of this
paper to show ; but we may at least affirm at the outset, without fear
of contradiction, that a very smart conflict has been raging on the sub
ject in the scientific world. The opposing forces are the geologists and
the mathematicians. There has been hard hitting on both sides, and
no quarter given. Of late the mathematicians have brought up their
reserve, a contingent of natural philosophers, who have done good
service. The latest intelligence from the seat of war speaks of a sus
pension of hostilities. The mathematicians will make no concessions,
but the geologists appear likely to abate somewhat of their high de
mands. There is even some talk of an amalgamation of the opposing
armies. In plain English, there has been a dispute as to the age of
the world. Geologists declared that the centuries of its duration
could only be denoted by an array of figures so large as to paralyze
the reasoning faculties and convey no definite impression to the mind.
Other branches of science have shown cause for attributing to the
solar system a limit of duration, vast indeed, but not absolutely in
conceivable.

To those whose interest in such matters is literary rather than

1 1. " Lectures on some Recent Advances in Physical Science." By Prof. P. G. Tait,
Professor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. 1876.

2. " On Geological Dynamics." By Sir William Thomson, LL. D., F. R. S. " Trans-

actions of the Geological Society of Glasgow," 1869.

3. "On Geological Time." By Sir William Thomson, LL. D. "Transactions of the
Geological Society of Glasgow." 1868.

4. " Sur le Ralentissement du Mouvement de Rotation de la Terre." Par M. Delauuay.

Paris, 1866.
6. " Climate and Time." By James Croll. " H. M. Geological Survey of Scotland. *

London, 1875.
G. " Principles of Geology." By Sir Charles Lyell. Fourteenth edition. London, 1875.

650 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

scientific, the progress of such a controversy is often very entertain
ing. It is true that the actual battles take place in places beyond our
ken, generally at meetings of scientific societies, where the orators
have it all their own way and confound their adversaries till the
opposition society meets. But though the philosophers retire for
fighting purposes, and do battle in the clouds with weapons, phrases,
and formulae, that we cannot understand, they always come down
again to earth to proclaim their victories or palliate their defeats.
Once they come down, and we catch them with pens in their hands,
the outsiders have their turn.

It is not, however, in the great books of Darwin, Huxley, Lyell,
Helmholtz, Tait, or Thomson, that we may seek food for amusement.
In these works every thought is in full dress and every phrase deco
rous. But there is another sort of literature in which we see the great
men, so to speak, with their coats off. The "Proceedings" of the
learned societies where the real fighting goes on are full of entertain
ment. Students of human nature need no further proof that, though
every man may not be a philosopher, every philosopher is certainly a
man. With what frank enjoyment they fight! With what irony
what sarcasm they annihilate their foes ! It must, however, be con
fessed that sarcasm is not, as a rule, the strong point of the learned.
The editor of a northern newspaper of our acquaintance was one day
speaking in terms of praise of his sub-editor : " The brilliancy of yon
young man," said he, "is surprising ; the facility with which he jokes
amazes me. I, myself, am in the habit of joking, but I joke with diffi
culty." We have observed the same peculiarity among other learned
persons. They joke, but not with ease.

Most of the books which we have prefixed to this paper contain
their authors thoughts polished ad unguem. It would not be fair to
judge of the opinions of the scientific persons we quote by any other
standard than that which they have themselves carefully prepared ;
but yet we cannot refrain from entertaining a preference for the
rough-and-ready, hard-hitting pamphlets, lectures, " proceedings," in
augural addresses, and the like, from which, almost without exception,
these works have been compiled. For example, Mr. Croll s work on
" Climate and Time " is everything which a scientific work should be
that requires deep research and laborious thought, combined with the
boldest generalization ; but it is a digest of some five or six and thirty
papers contributed to scientific magazines and periodicals during
several years. Mr. Croll gives a list of his papers at the end of his
volume. But though it is most convenient to see the whole before us
at a glance, and to have them all under our hand or on the library-shelf,
yet we acknowledge that while thinking over Mr. Croll s volume, for
the purposes of this review, we found ourselves again and again going
back to the pages of the Header and the Philosophical Magazine, in
which we first made acquaintance with them. It may be prejudice

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 651

in favor of old acquaintances, but we liked them better before. Di
gressions, perhaps, are cut out ; some little rash speculation quietly
withdrawn ; some hit at an opponent suppressed ; but they do not
always command the same ready assent, or appear so interesting as
they did in their old form.

These remarks do not apply to Prof. Tait. His lectures now
before us, from their nature, belong to the class of composition for
which we avow our predilection. They were delivered extempore to
a scientific audience, and printed from short-hand notes. They lose
nothing of their vigor, to use an expression of Lord Macaulay, by
translation out of English into Johnsonese. We are allowed to seize
the thought in the making, and, if it loses anything in grace, the loss
is more than counterbalanced by power.

Those who wish thoroughly to understand the subject of this
paper should study Prof. Tait s lectures on the souces of energy, and
the transformation of one sort of energy into another. Matthew
Arnold s phrase, " let the mind play freely round " any set of facts of
which you may become possessed, often recurs to the mind on reading
these papers. There is a rugged strength about Prof. Tait s extem
pore addresses, which taken together with their encyclopedic range,
and the grim humor in which the professor delights, makes them very
fascinating. They have another advantage. Men not professionally
scientific find themselves constantly at a loss how to keep up with the
rapid advance which has characterized recent years. One has hardly
mastered a theory when it becomes obsolete. But in Prof. Tait we
have a reporter of the very newest and freshest additiqns to scientific
thought in England and on the Continent, with the additional advan
tage of annotations and explanations by one of the most trustworthy
guides of our time.

We propose to discuss the books and papers whose titles are pre
fixed to this article, in so far as they throw fresh light on the probable
length of time during which the solar system may be supposed to
have existed. It is but in recent times that any materials have been
amassed for forming an opinion on the subject. Before the end of the
last century geology hardly existed as a science ; an inquiry as to the
age of the world would have been unhesitatingly answered by the as
sertion that the earth was created in six days, 4,004 years before the
birth of Christ. Though further research has shown that the sacred
text bears no such interpretation, those copies of the "Authorized
Version of the Bible" which are enriched with notes and marginal
references still keep up the formal assertion.

A story is told in Brydone s " Tour in Sicily " which will serve
to recall the state of public opinion on the subject of chronology at
the end of the last century. The Canonico Recupero, a Sicilian priest,
was Brydone s guide when he explored Mount Etna. Recupero (who
afterward wrote a history of his native mountain) told the traveler

652 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that he had been vastly embarrassed by the discovery that many
strata of lava, each covered deeply with earth, overlaid each other
on the mountain-side. " Moses," said he, " hangs like a dead weight
upon me, for I have not the conscience to make the mountain so young
as that prophet makes the world." " The bishop," adds Brydone,
" who is strenuously orthodox for it is an excellent see has warned
him to be on his guard, and not to pretend to be a better historian
than Moses."

The worthy Bishop of Catania was not alone in his views. Near
er home it was the generally-received opinion that to doubt the lit
eral accuracy of the chronology supposed to be involved in the Mo
saic account was a grave impiety. The poet Cowper, mildest of men,
became fiercely satirical under the provocation of geology. Though
few people read "The Task" nowadays, the lines will no doubt be

remembered :

" . . . . Some drill and bore
The solid earth, and from the strata there
Extract a register by which we learn
That He who made it, and revealed its date
To Moses, was mistaken in its age."

Fortunately, it is no longer considered impious to try and " ex
tract a register " from the earth. Those who were inclined to be afraid
that the Mosaic record would be discredited have long since laid
aside their fears. It has been found that, far from being upset by
scientific inquiry, the Bible account of the Creation accords in a very
remarkable manner with modern discoveries ; and long before Max
Mdller put the feeling into words, it was felt that only " by treating our
own sacred books with neither more nor less mercy than the sacred
books of other nations, they could retain their position and influence."

When once the plunge was made, it was soon found, as might have
been expected, that the fault was not in the oracle, but in the inter
pretation ; and it is very remarkable in how many and unexpected
directions the testimony of Moses has been strengthened by the criti
cism, not always friendly, which it has received. Of course, when
the anciently-accepted date of the Creation was proved to be incor
rect, and chronology was, as it were, thrown open to the public,
there was nothing to prevent philosophers from allowing the freest
scope to their imagination. In proportion as the six thousand years
formerly assigned as the age of created matter was too small, the
reaction of opinion claimed for it an antiquity which workers in other
branches of physics feel it impossible to concede; and at the present
moment there is among scientific men a revolt against the extreme
views of the geologists. The latter affirmed with truth that creation
in six solar days was demonstrably untrue, not because God could
not create the world at a stroke, but because the world bears ample
evidence that he did not so exercise his power. It was inconsistent

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 653

alike with reasoning from probability or the investigation of facts.
In all the operations of Nature as they unfolded themselves before
our eyes God worked by law by the process of slow development
by means beautifully simple, and involving no violence and no haste,
yet irresistible. There was abundant evidence that these causes had
been at work for thousands perhaps millions of years before the
date of the supposed miracle. Beginning from the present age, the
time was calculated that each development would require, till the
united ages of all amounted to the enormous sum of three hundred
millions of years.

Modern English geology holds that all geological changes have
been effected by agents now in operation, and that those agents have
been working silently at the same rate in all past time ; that the great
changes of the earth s crust were produced, not by great convulsions
and cataclysms of Nature, but by the ordinary agencies of rain, snow,
frost, ice, and chemical action. It teaches that the rocky face of our
globe has been carved into hill and dale, and ultimately worn down
to the sea-level, not only once or twice, but many times over during
past ages ; that the principal strata of the rocks hundreds, and even
thousands, of feet thick have been formed on ocean-floor-beds by
the slow decay of marine creatures and matter held in solution by
the waves ; that every part of the earth has been many times sub
merged, and has again been lifted into the air. This slow rising and
sinking of the ground is an axiom of the geological creed. We are told
that it is now going on, and that there are large areas of subsidence
and of elevation on the surface of the globe. But when we consider
the slow rate at which that oscillation is now proceeding, and argue
back from the known to the unknown, we are landed in conclusions
as to the length of time required for geological changes which the
opponents of the theory declare to be absolutely inadmissible.

Sir William Thomson, Prof. Tait, and Mr. Croll, argue the ques
tion as one of geological dynamics. They find reason, in recent dis
coveries of science, to assert that the sun and the earth, from their
physical condition, cannot possibly have existed for the enormous
length of time supposed. Playfair, the founder of what is called the
Uniformitarian school of geology, declares, on the other hand, that in
the existing order of things there is no evidence either of a beginning
or of an end. " In the % planetary motions," he says, " where geometry
has carried the eye so far both into the future and the past, we discover
no mark either of the commencement or the termination of the pres
ent order. The author of Nature has not given laws to the universe,
which, like the institutions of men, carry in themselves the elements
of their own destruction." This was a bold assertion : it was adopted
with very little limitation by Sir Charles Lyell and the later geolo
gists his disciples and contemporaries. Indeed, if they admitted
any limitations at all, they placed the origin of the world so many

6 54 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

hundreds of millions of years ago that the figures convey no practi
cal idea to the mind, and amount in effect almost to what a distin
guished geologist calls " eternity a parte ante"

The principal grounds upon which scientific opinion has recently
declared itself in favor of limited periods for the duration of the solar
system are based, first, on the belief that the earth is cooling if not
rapidly at such a rate as to make it impossible that it should have
existed for very many millions of years ; secondly, because there is
reason to believe that the earth is not now rotating on her axis with
the same rapidity as in former ages, and that, as her shape would
have been different if, at the time she was in a molten state, she had
been rotating more rapidly than now, she has not been rotating so
long as has been supposed ; thirdly, because the sun is parting with
caloric at such a rate as to make it certain that he could not have
continued to radiate heat at the same rate for more than a few millions
of years ; and lastly, because the changes in the earth s crust, stupen
dous and varied as they are, could have been, and probably were,
accomplished in the course of much shorter periods than popular
geology has hitherto considered possible.

It will, of course, be understood that any inquiry as to the date
of creation must necessarily have relation only to the solar system
the sun, that is, and the planets which accompany the earth in its
orbit round the central luminary.

The investigation is of necessity thus narrowed, because we have
not, and cannot expect to have, any definite information as to the age
of the rest of the visible universe. The stars are forever beyond our
ken. If the spectroscope can bring intelligence of their component
elements, it is as much as we can hope to attain ; for their immeasu
rable distance effectually removes them from investigation. No action
of gravity emanating from those distant luminaries affects the inter
nal economy of the solar system. In the vast eternity of space the
sun and his attendant satellites are altogether alone.

It is difficult to gaze upon the thousands of stars that brighten
the night with their radiance, and yet realize our entire isolation.
The solar system, with the radius of its orbit stretching from the sun
to farthest Neptune, is but a point in a vast solitude. No star is
nearer to us than 200 millions of millions of miles.

It is difficult, in dealing with such enormous numbers, to retain a
definite impression on the mind. Our powers of conception are fitted
rather to the wants of common life than to a complete survey of the
universe.

Perhaps an intelligent may be substituted for a merely formal
assent to these numbers, if they are considered on a greatly-dimin
ished scale. Consider the figures on the scale of one mile to 100,-
000,000. On that scale the sun s distance from the earth will be repre
sented by nearly one mile. Let the sun be represented by a globe

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 655

on the top of St. Paul s Cathedral, and the earth by a little ball on
the top of the clock-tower of the Houses of Parliament. The inte
rior planets would revolve round St. Paul s as a centre ; Mercury, at
the distance of St. Clement s Church in the Strand ; Venus, at the
distance of St. Martin s Church, Trafalgar Square ; Mars would be at
Lambeth Bridge ; Jupiter, at Walham Green ; Saturn, in the middle
of Richmond Park ; Uranus, a little nearer the centre than Slough ;
Neptune, a couple of miles short of Reading. The outermost planet
of the solar system, then, would on this scale revolve in an orbit
comprising London and its neighborhood as far as Stevenage on the
north, Chelmsford and Rochester on the east, and Horsham on the
south.

On that same scale the nearest fixed star would be nearly as far
away as the moon is in the actual heavens. 1

This inconceivable remoteness shows that the sun and his satel
lites lie apart in space. They form one whole, interdependent on each
other, but completely removed, as regards their internal economy,
from the influence of any attraction outside.

There are reasons for concluding that the system, thus organized
and isolated, was brought into existence by one continuous act of
creative energy, and that, however long the period over which the
process may have been spread, the whole solar system forms part of
one creation ; and though it has been sometimes thought that the
earth was made by itself, and that the sun was introduced from out
side space, or created where he is at a different time, the evidence is
strong against such a supposition.

In the first place, the orbits of all the planets are nearly in one
plane, and describe very nearly concentric circles. If, when they
received the original impulse which sent them revolving round the
sun, any of them had been started with a little more original veloci
ty, such planets would revolve in orbits more elongated. If, there
fore, they had been the result of several distinct acts of creation,
instead of being parts of one and the same act of creation, their
orbits would probably have been so many ovals, narrow and wide
in all degrees, and intersecting and interfering with each other in
all directions. Yet if this want of harmony had existed, even to a
small degree, it would have been sufficient to destroy the existing
species of living creatures, and cause to disappear all security for the
stability of the solar system. If the earth s orbit were much more
eccentric than it is, all living creatures would die, for the extremes
1 On the scale of 1 mile to 100,000,000 miles :

Miles.

Mercury would be distant from ) ~

the sun f

Venus 0.06

The earth 0.91

Mars 1.39

Jupiter 4.76

Miles.

Saturn 8.71

Uranus 17.52

Neptune 27.43

And a Centauri, the nearest ) ^QQ 550 QQ
fixed star J

656 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of heat and cold at different periods of the year would be fatal to
life. If the orbit of Jupiter were as eccentric as that of Mercury,
the attraction of the larger planet would cause the smaller to change
their approximately circular orbits into very long ellipses ; such
would be the disturbance that they would fall into the sun or fly off
into remote space. The moon would approach nearer and nearer to
the earth with every revolution ; the year would change its character ;
violent heat would succeed to violent cold ; the planets would come
nearer and nearer ; we should see them portentous in size and aspect,
glaring and disappearing at uncertain intervals ; tides, like deluges,
would sweep over whole continents ; and, finally, the fall of the moon
or one of the planets to the earth would result in the absolute anni
hilation of both of them.

Another reason for supposing that the solar system is the result
of one separate act of creation is, that all parts of it are subject to
one uniform law that of gravitation. By that law every particle
of matter attracts every other particle with a force directly propor
tionate to its mass. This force varies as the inverse square of the
distance : that is, if the attractive force of a given mass at one mile
were called 1, at two miles it would be 2 X 2 = 4, or ^ of 1, and so
on. This law of the inverse square, as it is called, is but the mathe
matical expression of a property which has been imposed upon mat
ter by the Creator. It is no inherent quality, so far as we know. It
is quite conceivable that the central law might have been different
from what it is. There is no reason why the mathematical fact should
be what it is except the will of the Being who imposed the law. Any
other proportion could equally well be expressed mathematically, and
its results calculated. As an instance of what would occur if any
other proportion than the inverse square were substituted as the at
tractive force of gravity, suppose, at distances 1, 2, 3, the attractive
force had varied as 1, 2, 3, instead of the squares of those numbers.
Under such a law any number of planets might revolve in the most
regular and orderly manner. But under this law the weight of
bodies at the earth s surface would cease to exist ; nothing would fall
or weigh downward. The greater action of the distant sun and plan
ets would exactly neutralize the attractive force of the earth. A ball
thrown from the hand, however gently, would immediately become a
satellite of the earth, and would for the future accompany its course,
revolving about it in the space of one year. All terrestrial things
would float about with no principle of coherence or stability they
would obey the general law of the system, but would acknowledge no
particular relation to the earth. It is obvious that such a change
would be subversive of the entire structure and economy of the world.
From these and similar considerations, it follows that, although other
laws are conceivable under which a solar system might exist, the
solar system, such as we know it, could only exist under the actual

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 657

laws which have been imposed upon its motions. And this seems
entirely to exclude the idea that the various bodies of the system
could have been created at different times or brought together from
different parts of infinite space. We may then safely conclude that
the solar system is absolutely isolated in space, and is collectively the
result of one act of creation. To the solar system, therefore, our in
quiry is exclusively confined.

Although the received chronology of the world has for ages rested
upon the supposed authority of the Bible, the sacred text really says
nothing at all upon the subject. But, though the assertions which
were so long made upon its supposed authority are not really con
tained in the Pentateuch, it is curious to observe how exactly the
words of Moses appear to fit the most recent discoveries of science.
No one has supposed that we were intended to learn science from the
Bible ; it is, therefore, an unexpected advantage to find that its short
but pregnant sentences directly support the interpretation put by
modern research upon the hieroglyphics of Nature. Moses teaches,
just as modern science teaches, that the starry heavens existed far
back in past duration, before the creation of the earth. He describes
in majestic words the " emptiness " of chaos, and the condition of
affairs from which light arose. He describes the formation of the sun,
and its gradual condensation into a " light-holder" to give light upon
the earth, in terms that almost seem to anticipate Herschel and La
place. Far from assigning any date to the Creation, he is content to
refer it to " former duration." No date is either mentioned or implied.

The so-called chronology was derived from two lists, one extend
ing from Adam to Noah, the other from Noah to Abraham. These
lists purport to give the direct line of descent from father to son, and
the age of each individual member of the genealogy at the time when
the next in succession was born. As Adam was supposed to have
been created six days after the commencement of the Creation, it was
simple work to add up the sum and fix the age of the world. As long
as the progress of physical science showed no necessity for supposing
a lengthened period to elapse between the creation of the world and
the creation of man, it was taken for granted, almost without discus
sion, that when God had created the heavens and the earth in the
beginning, he at once set about the work of arranging them for the
use of man; that he distributed this work over six ordinary days,
and at the close of the sixth, day introduced our first parent on the
scene.

Nowadays, all divines, English and foreign, agree that the word
employed by Moses, and translated in our Bible by " the beginning,"
expresses duration or time previous to creation. Reshith, the He
brew word for beginning, is in the original used without the definite
article. The article was expressly omitted in order to exclude the
application of the word to the order of creation, and to make it signify
VOL. ix. 42

658 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

previous duration or previous eternity. The words of Moses, then,
" In former duration God created the heavens and the earth," may
mean millions of years just as easily as one. A few verses later,
describing the second day of creation, Moses declares that God made
the firmament and called it heaven. It is plain from this that the
heavens of the first day s creation are different from the heavens of
the second day ; the difference of time proves a difference of subject.
The heavens of the first verse were made in former duration, before
the moving of the Spirit, before the creation of light ; the heavens of
the second day were made after the earth and after light.

Another statement made by Moses is an extraordinary anticipa
tion of the most recent cosmological doctrines. " The earth was
desolation and emptiness and darkness upon the face of the raging
deep, and the Spirit of God brooding upon the face of the waters."
It is now hardly doubtful that the earth was a molten sphere, over
which hung, in a dense vapor, all the water which now lies upon its
surface. As the crust cooled, the aqueous vapor that surrounded it
became condensed into water and rested on the surface of the land.
The conflicts between the waters and the fiery heat, as the crust of
the earth was broken, fell in, or was upheaved, are well described by
the words of Moses, " The earth was desolation and emptiness." It is
curious that the great facts of the submersion of the earth and its
condition of emptiness should have been thus exactly described by
Moses.

We are then told that God said, " Let there be light, and there
was light." Celsus, Voltaire, and a writer in " Essays and Reviews,"
have found it strange that there should have been light before the
creation of the sun ; but, according to the theory of cosmogony now
almost universally received, the earth did in fact exist before the con
densation of the sun. Light there would be, from the gradually-con
densing mass of nebulous and incandescent matter which occupied
the whole space now circumscribed by the orbit of the earth. If
Moses had wished to describe the modern doctrine concerning light,
he could not have done so more happily. The sun is not called " <5r,"
light, but Maor, a place of light, just what modern science has dis
covered it to be. If light be not matter, but vibrations of luminif-
erous ether, no words could more precisely explain what must have
occurred when God set in motion the undulations which produced
light, and said, " Let light be." The account given of the creation
of the sun very closely anticipated modern science: "Let there be
light-holders in the firmament of heaven, and let them be fpr light-
holders in the firmament of heaven to give light upon the earth . . .
and the stars." When the sun began to give his light, then, for the
first time, the earth s fellow-planets, the stars, began to reflect his
brilliance, and became luminaries also.

"Vestiges of Creation" was one of the first books which fairly

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 659

awakened public interest in the debatable land which lies between
that which is certainly known to science and that which must always
defy inquiry. Before the appearance of that remarkable book, the
theory that the sun. and its attendant planets were produced by the
condensation of a vast nebula was but little known to the unscientific
world. The idea was originally entertained by Sir William Herschel,
and affords one of the greatest proofs of his commanding genius. It
was afterward elaborated by Laplace ; but that great astronomer was
himself distrustful of it, and, while he expounded the mechanical laws
by which the proposed explanation could be supported, he was care
ful to speak of it only as an hypothesis. As time goes on, it seems
probable that the saying of Arago will be accepted, and that the
views of Laplace will be universally acknowledged to be "those only
which, by their grandeur, their coherence, and their methematical
character, can be truly considered to form a physical cosmogony."

But, though Laplace is thus credited by Arago with the origi
nation of this grand conception, he was not its author. Sir William
Herschel gave the earliest sketch of the theory. His views were ex
pressed with so much precision, that one cannot help feeling a little
jealousy for the prior right of discovery of the English astronomer.
Herschel so plainly preceded Laplace, that it seems hard that Laplace
should have the credit of it. Herschel began to search after nebulas
in 1779, and soon formed a catalogue comprising an enormous num
ber of them. By degrees it dawned upon his mind that the differ
ences he observed in them were systematic, and at length occurred
the magnificent intuition that the nebulae are stars in process of for
mation.

They lie in enormous numbers in every part of the heavens, and
apparently in every stage of progressive development. The slow
growth of worlds, extending over ages of time, cannot, of course, be
watched by any single observer. No more can a single tree among
the trees of a forest be so observed. But a forest contains specimens
of saplings, young trees, trees of vigorous growth, and trees in decay.
In like manner the heavens contain specimens of worlds in the mak
ing, from the chaotic mass of vapory matter which forms the first
stage of cosmical existence to the perfect, self-luminous star. Her
schel arranged them in classes showing this gradual development,
and he declares- that each class is so nearly allied to the next, that
they do not differ so much as would the annual description of a hu
man figure, if it were given from the birth of a child till he comes to
be a man in his prime. His catalogue arranges the objects he has act
ually observed somewhat in the following fashion : first, patches of
extensive diffused nebulosity ; " milky nebulosity," with condensa
tion; round nebulae; nebulae with a nucleus; and soon till he reaches
stellar nebulaa, nearly approaching the appearance of stars.

The evidence grows irresistible as we read, that in these wonder-

66o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ful objects we are gazing at works in process of formation as they lie
plastic under the creative hand of the Almighty. Nor is it possible
to withhold the inference thus probably was the world we live in,
and the solar system of which we form a part, evolved out of chaos.

The labors of Laplace commenced where Herschel ended. Herschel
described what he saw. Laplace showed by mathematics how the
known laws of gravitation could form, and probably did form, from
such partially-condensed mass of matter an entire planetary system.

It is supposed that a film of vaporous matter filled up the space
which is now bounded by the orbit of the outermost planet of our sys
tem. To the eye of an observer, if such there were, in a distant star
such a vapor would appear like one of the numerous nebulae which are
everywhere visible in the heavens.

Laplace supposed that this nebula, extending beyond what is now
the orbit of Neptune, possessed a rotatory motion round its centre of
gravity, and that the parts of it which were situated at the limits
where the centrifugal force exactly counterbalanced the attractive
force of the central nucleus were abandoned by the central mass.
Thus, as the nucleus became more and more dense under the action
of gravity, were formed a succession of rings concentric with and
revolving round the centre of gravity. Each ring would break up
into masses which would be endued with motions of rotation, and
would in consequence assume a spheroidal form. These masses
formed the various planets, which, in their turn condensing, cast off in
some instances their outlying rings, as the central mass had done,
and thus formed the moons or satellites which accompany the planets.
As each planet was in turn cast off, the central mass contracted itself
within the orbit of that last formed, till, after casting off Mercury,
it gathered with immense energy round its own centre and formed
the sun.

Laplace s mechanical explanation does not rest only on theory. It
has been experimentally shown that matter under certain conditions
would exhibit phenomena similar in many important particulars to
those which Laplace was led by mathematical considerations to sup
pose. Prof. Plateau, several years ago, tried the experiment of pour
ing olive-oil into alcohol and water, mixed in such proportions as ex
actly to equal the density of the oil. The oil thus became a liquid
mass relieved from the operation of gravity, and free to take any
exterior form which might be imposed by such forces as might be
brought to bear upon it. The oil instantly took the form of a globe
by virtue of molecular attraction. Prof. Plateau then introduced a
wire into the globe of oil in such a manner as to form for it a vertical
axis. The wire had on it a little disk coincident with the centre of
the globular mass, and by turning the axis the oil was made to re
volve. The sphere soon flattened at the poles and bulged out at the
equator, thus producing on a small scale an effect which is admitted

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 661

to have taken place in the planets. The experiment has since been
several times repeated. When the rotation becomes very rapid, the
figure becomes more oblately spheroidal, then hollows out above and
below round the axis of rotation, stretches out horizontally until
finally the outside layer of oil abandons the mass and becomes trans
formed into a perfectly regular ring. After a little while the ring of
oil, losing its own motion, gathers itself once more into a sphere. As
cften as the experiment is repeated the ring thrown off immediately
takes the globular form. These are seen to assume at the instant of
their formation a movement of rotation upon themselves, which takes
place in the same direction as that of the ring. Moreover, as the
ring at the instant of its rupture had still a remainder of velocity,
the spheres to which it has given birth tend to fly off at a tangent ;
but, as on the other side, the disk, turning in the alcoholic liquor,
has impressed on the liquor a movement of rotation, the spheres are
carried along and revolve for some time round the disk. Those
which revolve at the same time upon themselves " present the curi
ous spectacle of planets revolving at the same time on themselves
and in their orbit." Another curious result is almost always exhibited
in this experiment. Besides three or four large spheres into which
the ring resolves itself, there are almost always two or three very
small ones which may thus be compared to satellites. The experi
ment presents, therefore, an image in miniature of the formation of
the plapets, according to the hypothesis of Laplace, by the rupture
of the cosmical rings attributable to the condensation of the solar
atmosphere.

Modern discoveries carry the matter on much further. Recent
investigations into the doctrine of the conservation of energy have
shown the generation of cosmical heat. The amount of force com
prised in the universe, like the amount of matter contained in it, is a
fixed quantity, and to it nothing can either be added or taken away.
It is, therefore, constantly undergoing change from one form to an
other. If it ceases in one form it is not destroyed, it is converted.
The blow of a hammer on an anvil sets a certain amount of energy
in motion. The anvil stops the blow, but the force changes into
heat. Hammer a nail, and it will burn your fingers. Apply a brake
to a wheel, and you will stop the motion, but the force will be changed
into heat, which will burn you if you touch the brake. Measure the
hammered nail, and you find that it has expanded by the vibration
of its particles ; heat it still more, and the particles will overcome the
attraction of cohesion and revolve about each other, that is, they will
become molten ; heat them still more, and they will assume the vapor
ous or gaseous form. Now, seeing that motion was convertible into
heat, and heat into motion, it became an object of inquiry what was
the exact relation between the two. Dr. Mayer, in Germany, and Dr.
Joule, in England, set themselves to the solution of this problem. By

66 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

various experiments it was demonstrated that, every form of motion
bemo" convertible into heat, the amount of heat generated by a given
motion may be calculated. If the particles of a vast vaporous mass
were brought into collision from the effect of their mutual attraction,
intense heat would ensue. The amount of caloric generated by the
arrest of the converging motion of a nebula like the solar system
would be sufficient to fuse the whole into one mass and store up a
reserve of solar heat for millions of years.

Such, then, is the most probable conjecture respecting the origin
of our system. We now turn to consider the grounds on which at
tempts have been made to fix the probable date of its creation. It
will be convenient to examine the views of modern geologists on the
subject, and the objections, based on recent results of physical science,
which natural philosophers have adduced against their speculations.

The great representative, in late years, of British geology, is the
late Sir Charles Lyell. But a few months before his death he pub
lished the new edition of his " Principles of Geology," the title of
which we have placed at the head of this paper. While he lived he
bestowed upon the correction of his works unwearied labor. Edition
after edition was called for, and in each whole passages sometimes
whole chapters were remodeled. A quotation from one of the
earlier editions may not improbably be searched for in vain in those
which subsequently left his hands ; and there are not wanting in
stances in which an opinion, contested by competent adversaries,
was quietly dropped without any formal parade. His judgment was
always open to appeal, and his clear and manly intellect acknowl
edged no finality in matters of opinion ; therefore, on matters which
we know to have been brought before him, with their accompanying
evidence, we may consider ourselves as possessing his final verdict.
It would not be fair when quoting, as we must do, comments unfavor
able to some of the conclusions at which Sir Charles Lyell arrived,
to refrain from acknowledging the care with which his opinions were
formed, and the candor with which they were surrendered if ever his
better judgment considered them untenable. For instance, as head
of the Uniformitarian school, he was exceedingly anxious that the
evidence for his favorite doctrine should be duly and impartially
weighed. With this view he advocated, in his " Principles of Geol
ogy," l " an earnest and patient endeavor to reconcile the indications
of former change with the evidences of gradual mutations now in
progress."

Upon this remark Dr. Whewell * fell with merciless severity :
"We know nothing;" says he, "of causes; we only know effects.
Why then should we make a merit of cramping our speculations by
such assumptions ? Whether the causes of change do act uniformly ;

1 Lyell, b. iv., p. 328, fourth edition.
" History of the Inductive Sciences," b. via., sec. 2, edition of 1857.

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 663

whether they oscillate only within narrow limits ; whether their inten
sity in former times was nearly the same as it is now : these are pre
cisely the questions which we wish science to answer us impartially
and truly. Where, then, is the wisdom of an earnest and patient
endeavor to secure an affirmative reply ? "

This was rough handling of a pet theory, or, rather, of an argu
ment in favor of a pet theory ; but that Sir Charles Lyell felt its force
is shown by the fact that no trace of the appeal attacked by Whewell
appears in such later editions of the " Principles " as we have con
sulted.

As another instance of the same spirit, the following remark was
made by Dr. Hooker, the President of the Royal Society, when ad
dressing the British Association at Norwich. He was speaking of the
progress made in public estimation by the theories of Mr. Darwin.
" Sir Charles Lyell," he says, " having devoted whole chapters of the
first edition of his Principles to establishing the doctrine of special
creations, abandons it in the tenth edition. I know no brighter ex
ample of heroism, of its kind, than this, of an author thus abandoning
late in life a theory which he had for forty years regarded as one of
the foundation-stones of a work that had given him the highest posi
tion attainable among contemporary scientific writers."

Among eminent persons holding the geological opinions to which
the name of Catastrophism has been given, the name of the late Master
of Trinity must occupy a foremost place. The words in which he
avows his opinion are remarkable, not only for their exquisite beauty,
but because they have a peculiar significance as almost the last utter
ance of a great man. The passage which follows 1 occurs in the third
of a series of sermons preached in the University Church at Cam
bridge, in 1827. But it is curious to learn, from his "Memoirs," pub
lished this year, that he again used the same words in his college
chapel just before his death :

"Let us not deceive ourselves. Indefinite duration and gradual decay are
not the destiny of this universe. It will not find its termination only in the
imperceptible crumbling of its materials, or the clogging of its wheels. It steals
not calmly and slowly to its end. No ages of long and deepening twilight shall
gradually bring the last setting of the sun no mountains sinking under the
decrepitude of years, or w r eary rivers ceasing to rejoice in their courses, shall
prepare men for the abolition of this earth. No placid euthanasia shall silently
lead on the dissolution of the natural world. But the trumpet shall sound the
struggle shall come this goodly frame of things shall be rent and crushed by
the arm of its omnipotent Maker. It shall expire in the throes and agonies of
some fierce convulsion ; and the same hand which plucked the elements from
the dark and troubled slumbers of chaos shall cast them into their tomb, pushing
them aside that they may no longer stand between his face and the creatures
whom he shall come to judge."

Holding these opinions, and believing as Prof. Whewell did that
1 "Sermons in the University Church at Cambridge, 18th February, 1827."

66 4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the upheavals and subsidence of strata which characterize the earth s
crust were produced suddenly, and by violent agencies, the school
to which he belonged were little likely to attempt to fix a date for
the creation of the world. To their minds the facts of geology gave
no evidence as to time. It is, therefore, to Sir Charles Lyell and his
followers that we must turn for an estimate of duration drawn from
the " testimony of the rocks."

It is impossible to deny that periods of very vast duration must
have elapsed while the changes took place of which we see the traces.
If, for instance, we search below the sand on English shores, we find,
perhaps, a bed of earth with shells and bones ; under that, a bed of
peat ; under that, one of blue silt ; under that, a buried forest, with
the trees upright and rooted ; under that, another layer of blue silt,
full of roots and vegetable fibre ; perhaps, under that, again, another
old land-surface, with trees again growing in it ; and, under all, the
main bottom clay of the district. In any place where bowlder clay
crops out at the surface in Cheshire or Lancashire, along Leith shore
near Edinburgh, or along the coast of Scarborough it will be found
stuffed full of bits of different kinds of stone, the great majority of
which have nothing to do with the rock on which the clay happens to
lie, but have come from places many miles away. On examining the
pebbles, they will prove to be rounded, scratched, and grooved, in
such fashion as to show that at some period they have been subjected
to a grinding force of immense violence. Among the pebbles in the
clay, and on plains far away from mountains, are found great rocks
of many tons in weight. They were carried on the backs of icebergs,
which, at some time, covered the now temperate regions of the earth,
and were dropped by the melting ice either in the shape of pebbles,
as moraines of ancient glaciers, or as bowlders stranded when the ice
bergs melted in the lowlands.

Such evidence points to vast periods of more than arctic winter,
which must have endured for many thousand years. But in close
juxtaposition with these glacial shells and pebbles lie remains which
tell of tropical climates that alternated with the dreary ages of ice.
Fossil plants and the remains of animals prove that all Northern Eu
rope was once warmer than it is now ; that England bore the flora
and fauna of the torrid zones. Underneath London there lies four or
five hundred feet of clay. It is not ice clay ; it belongs to a later
geological formation, and was, in fact, the delta of a great tropical
river. The shells in this clay are tropical nautili, cones, fruits, and
seeds of nipa palms, now found only at Indian river-mouths ; anona-
seeds, gourd-seeds, acacia fruits ; the bones, too, of crocodiles and
turtles ; of large mammals allied to the Indian tapir, and the water-
hog of the Cape. All this shows that there was once, where London
stands, a tropical climate, and a tropic river running into the sea.
We find in it the remains of animals which existed before the Ice age.

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 665

The mammoth, or woolly elephant, the woolly rhinoceros, the cave-
lion, the cave-bear, the reindeer, and the musk-ox, inhabited Britain
till the ice drove them south. When the climate became tolerable
again, the mammoth and rhinoceros, the bison and the lion, reoccupied
our lowlands ; and the hippopotamus from Africa and Spain wandered
over the plains where now the English Channel flows, and pastured
side by side with animals which have long since retreated to Norway
and Canada.

When the ages necessary for all these changes is allowed for, we
have not, even yet, got beyond the latest period into which the his
tory of the globe has been divided. Under the tertiary deposits lies
the chalk, a thousand feet in thickness, which is composed of the shells
of minute animals, which must have been deposited age after age at
the bottom of a deep and still ocean, far out of reach of winds, tides,
or currents. Recent dredgings in ocean-depths have proved beyond
a doubt that the greater part of the Atlantic Sea floor is now being
covered by a similar deposit. It must have taken ages to form, and,
if the geologists are right in their estimate of the slow rate of up
heaval, many more ages to become elevated above the ocean-bed
where it lay. Not only once, but many times, the chalk was alter
nately above and beneath the waves. It is separated by comparative
ly thin and partial deposits of sand and clays, which show that it has
been at many different points in succession a sea-shore cliff. The
chalk is not flat, as it must have been at the sea-bottom ; it is eaten
out into holes by the erosion of the sea-waves, and upon it lie flints,
beds of shore-shingle, beds of oysters lying as they grew, water-shells
standing as they lived, and the remains of trees. Yet, again, there
lie upon the chalk sands, such as those of Aldershot and Farnham,
containing in their lower strata remains of tropical life, which disap
peared as the climate became gradually colder and colder, and the age
of ice once more set in. Everywhere about the Ascot Moors the sands
have been ploughed by the shore-ice in winter, as they lay awash in
the shallow sea, and over them is spread in many places a thin sheet
of ice-borne gravel. All this happened between the date of the bowl
der clay and that of the New Red Sandstone on which it rests.

We need not follow the geologist through the lower systems
which overlie the metamorphic rock. The Oolite contains remains of
plants and animals now extinct, the most remarkable being huge rep
tiles; the Triassic has fossils like the Oolite ; and the Permian has
remains like those in the coal on which it rests. Then follow the coal-
measures, the fossil remnants of tropical vegetation ; the Old Red
Sandstone, with fossils principally of fishes and shells ; the Silurian,
in which are found the earliest forms of life ; and, lastly, the hard and
crystalline rocks, devoid of fossils, which are supposed to be the earli
est constituent mass of our planet.

Sir Charles Lyell and his followers allege that the rate at which

666 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

species of animals change is tolerably uniform. The fossils of one
age differ but little from those of ages immediately preceding and
following it. We must go back, he says, to a period when the marine
shells differ as a whole from those now existing to form one complete
period. Counting back in stages measured by changes of fossils, we
have four such stages in the tertiary formations above the chalk.

Lyell saw reason to believe, on evidence which we shall presently
examine, that the age of ice commenced about a million of years ago.
The place of this age of ice among the series of fossil-changes is easily
marked, and so he concludes that each of his four periods above the
chalk " would lay claim to twenty millions of years." We must
allow Sir Charles to work up to his stupendous conclusion in his own
words :

" The antecedent Cretaceous, Jurassic, and Triassic formations would yield us
three more epochs of equal importance to the three Tertiary periods before
enumerated, and a fourth may be reckoned by including the Permian epoch
with the gap which separates it from the Trias. In these eight periods we
may add, continuing our retrospective survey, four more, namely, the Carbo
niferous, Devonian, Silurian, and Cambrian ; so that we should have twelve in
all, without reckoning the antecedent Laurentian formations which are older
than the Cambrian. ... If each, therefore, of the twelve periods represents
twenty millions of years on the principles above explained, we should have a
total of two hundred and forty millions for the entire series of years which have
elapsed since the beginning of the Cambrian period."

Eighty millions since the lower tertiary formation, one hundred
and sixty millions since the formation of the coal-measures, and two
hundred and forty millions since the beginning of the Cambrian pe
riod ! And beyond that inconceivable antiquity lie the whole range
of the primary rocks which contain no fossils.

Mr Darwin 1 assigns to the world even a greater age. " In all prob
ability," he says, " a far longer period than three hundred millions
of years has elapsed since the latter part of the secondary period."
Other geologists exceed even this estimate. Mr. Jukes, for instance,
after referring to this passage, in which Mr. Darwin has given an esti
mate of the length of time necessary for wearing down the space be
tween the North and South Downs, declares it is just as likely that
the time which actually elapsed since the first commencement of the
erosion, till it was nearly as complete as it now is, was really a hun
dred times greater than his estimate, " or thirty thousand millions of
years ! "

To any one but a professed geologist, it would almost seem as if
these ideas of geological periods had been framed on the principle
which guided Mr. Montague Tigg in fixing the capital of the Anglo-
Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life-insurance Company. " What,"
asked the secretary, " will be the paid-up capital according to the

1 " Origin of Species," edition of 1859, p. 287.

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 667

ne*t prospectus ? " " A figure of two," says Mr. Tigg, " and as many
naughts after it as the printer can get into the same line."

It is hard for imagination to compass the meaning of a million,
and, when that number is multiplied by hundreds, the effort is alto
gether beyond us. But we need not dwell on this consideration ; we
turn at once to the practical comments made by physical science on
these and such-like opinions. The first is founded on the secular cool
ing of the earth.

If a red-hot ball be taken from a furnace, it begins at once to part
with heat at a certain definite rate. As it becomes colder it cools
more and more slowly. From the known laws of heat it is quite
possible roughly to approximate to the period during which the earth
has been habitable for animals and plants such as we now find upon
it. Whenever a body is hotter at one part than at another, the ten
dency of heat is to flow from the hotter body to the colder. As the
earth s crust is warmer as we go farther down, there must be a steady
increase of heat from the surface to the centre, and the earth is even
now losing heat at a perfectly measurable rate ; therefore it is pos
sible to calculate what was the distribution of heat a hundred thou
sand or a thousand thousand years ago, supposing the present natural
laws to have been then in existence. According to these data, about
ten millions of years ago the surface of the earth had just consoli
dated, or was just about to consolidate; and in the course of com
paratively few tliousand years after that time the surface had become
so moderately warm as to be fitted for the existence of life such as
we know it. If w r e attempt to trace the state of affairs back for a
hundred millions, instead of ten millions of years, we should find that
the earth (if it then existed at all) must have been liquid, and at a
high white heat, so as to be utterly incompatible with the existence
of life of any kind with which we are acquainted. 1

The next argument, namely, that founded on the earth s retarda
tion by the tidal wave, is more recondite, and the theory that there is
such a retardation at all is quite of recent date. Theoretical reasons
connected with mechanics caused it to be adopted, and its establish
ment depends on the most refined astronomical investigation.

It is one of the peculiarities of time-measurement that, from the
nature of things, no two periods of time can be compared directly
one with another. The standards by which we measure time are less
and less precise as we recede farther into the past. To-day we have
as the standard unit of duration the interval between two successive
transits of a star over the cross-wires of a fixed observatory-telescope.
This measure has been considered until lately as absolutely fixed and
invariable. And so it is for all practical purposes ; the sidereal time
of any heavenly body passing the meridian on a given day in 1880

1 "The Doctrine of Uniformity in Geology briefly refuted." " Proceedings of tho
Royal Society, Edinburgh, December, 1865."

668 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

may be ascertained from the " Nautical Almanac " to-day, and it will
be found true within one-hundredth of a second. But that throws no
light on the question, What is the absolute length of an hour or a
second ? They are both definite fractions of a day ; and a day is a
revolution of the earth on its axis ; no artificial measurement of such
an interval can prove whether the interval itself remains from age to
a^e unchanged. To quote Humboldt as a sure guide to the received
opinions of scientific men thirty years ago, 1 " The comparison of the
secular inequalities in the moon s motion, with eclipses observed by
Hipparchus, or during an interval of two thousand years, shows con
clusively the length of the day has certainly not been diminished by
one-hundredth part of a second."

The assertion is derived from Laplace, and even now is mentioned
as an unquestioned fact in the most recent astronomical text-books.
Halley, it is true, in 1695, discovered that the average velocity with
which the moon revolves round the earth had apparently been increas
ing from year to year, and this acceleration remained unexplained
during more than a century. Halley compared the records of the
most ancient lunar eclipses of the Chaldean astronomers with those
of modern times. He likewise compared both sets of observations
with those of the Arabian astronomers of the eighth and ninth cen
turies. The result was an unexplained discrepancy, which set all
theory at defiance for a century or more. It appeared that the moon s
mean motion increases at the rate of eleven seconds in a century; and
that quantity, small in itself, becomes considerable by accumulation
during a succession of ages. In 2,500 years the moon is before her
calculated place by l enough to make a very material difference in
place of visibility of a solar eclipse. Laplace at last, as Sir John
Herschel says, stepped in to rescue physical astronomy from its re
proach, by pointing out the real cause of the phenomenon. Laplace
accounted for the apparent acceleration by showing that the motion
of the earth in her orbit was disturbed by the other planets, in a man
ner before insufficiently appreciated, and the explanation was accepted
for many years as complete and satisfactory. The acceleration was
calculated to the utmost point of precision attainable in mathematics
by MM. Damoiseau and Plana. Using the formula of Laplace, and
the numbers deduced from them, it was found that the circumstances
and places of ancient eclipses, as recorded by historians, were brought
into strict accordance with the times and circumstances as they ought
to have been if the theory were true. Laplace s explanation rests
upon the fact that for many thousands of years past the orbit of the
earth has been tending more and more to a perfect circle that is, the
minor axis is increasing while the major axis remains unchanged.
The result is, that the average distance of the moon from the sun is
greater than it was in past ages. But in proportion as the moon

"Cosmos," i., 161.

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 669

is released from the sun s influence she revolves faster round the
earth.

When it was seen how completely the difficulties in ancient obser
vations were explained away by the calculations of Laplace, all doubt
was considered to be at an end, and astronomers supposed that the
whole truth was known. But, in 1853, it occurred to Prof. Adams to
recalculate Laplace s investigations, and the result was the detection
of a material error, which vitiated the whole series of observations.
The results of Prof. Adams s calculations were submitted to the
Royal Society 1 in a paper, the explanatory part of which is very
short indeed, occupying but a couple of pages of the " Proceedings."
The brief statement is followed by a corroborative sea of high mathe
matics, into which we have no intention of asking the reader to
plunge. The result, roughly stated, was to halve the amount of accel
eration calculated by Laplace, and thus to leave half of the accelera
tion of the moon necessary for his explanation of ancient eclipses to
be found in some other way. Astronomers were now in a condition
almost as bad as that from which they had been rescued by Laplace.

Adams communicated his final result to M. Delaunay, one of the
great French mathematicians ; and it seems to have been during the
investigations which that astronomer undertook to verify the calcula
tions of Adams that it occurred to him to inquire whether our meas
ure of time itself remains unchanged ? in other words, whether the
earth itself may not be rotating more slowly, instead of the moon
more quickly, than in by-gone ages ? It is plain that the moon will
appear to be moving more quickly round the earth, if the earth itself
which is furnishing the standard by which the moon s revolution is
to be measured is rotating more and more slowly from age to age.

Newton laid it down in his first law of motion that motion unresist-
ed remains uniform forever ; and he gave as an instance of constant mo
tion, unaffected by any external causes, this very rotation of the earth
about its axis. But M. Delaunay remembered that Kant had pointed
out the resistance which the earth must incur from the tide-wave, and
had even approximately calculated its amount. The tidal wave is
lifted up toward the moon, and on the side of the earth opposite the
moon ; so that, as Prof. Tait puts it, the earth has always to revolve
within a friction-brake. Adams adopted this theory of tidal friction ;
and, in conjunction with Prof. Tait and Sir William Thomson, assigned
twenty-two second^ per century as the error by which the earth
would, in the course of a century, get behind a thoroughly-perfect
clock (if such a machine were possible).

It may be asked, If the earth s movement be diminishing gradu
ally in rapidity, will it eventually stop altogether ? No ; if ever the
earth shall so far yield to the action of the tidal wave as to rotate not
more rapidly than the moon, she will present to the moon always the

1 June 16, 1853.

670 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

same part of her surface. Then the liquid protuberance directed
toward the moon will no longer be a cause of delay, and the retarda
tion will cease. This cessation of effect, owing to the cause having
ceased, appears to have actually happened with regard to the moon
herself. At some time the moon s crust, and, indeed, her whole sub
stance, was in a molten state. Enormous tides must have been pro
duced by the attraction of the earth in this viscous mass of molten
rock, and the time of the moon s rotation must have been quickly
compelled, by the friction, to become identical with the time of its
revolution round the earth, and now, as is well known, the moon
always presents to the earth the same side of her sphere.

It being thus established that there is retardation of the earth s
motion, and the amount of retardation being calculated, it remains
only to inquire how the fact affects the question of the world s age.
We know that the flattening at the poles and bulging at the equator
is the result of rotation ; from the amount of retardation it can be
calculated how fast the earth was rotating in by-gone ages. Two
thousand millions of years ago she would, according to such calculation,
have been revolving twice as fast as at present, and the amount of
centrifugal force at the equator would have been four times as great
as now. If the earth, subjected to such strong centrifugal force, had
been liquid or even pasty, when it began to rotate, the equatorial
protuberance would have been much greater than it is. It therefore
follows that she was rotating at about the same rapidity as now,
when she became solid, and as the rate of rotation is certainly dimin
ishing, the epoch of solidification cannot be more than ten or twelve
millions of years ago.

A third argument for restricted periods is founded on an examina
tion of the question, How long can the sun be supposed to have kept
the earth, by its radiation, in a state fit to support animal and vege
table life ? Here, as might be expected, a wider range of opinion
exists.

It will be conceded at once that the age of organic life upon the
earth must, of necessity, be more recent than the age of the sun.
The several theories as to the way in which the sun may have derived
his heat may be put aside in favor of that of Helrnholtz, viz., that
the sun has been condensed from a nebulous mass, filling at least the
entire space at present occupied by the whole solar system. The
gravitation theory of Helmholtz is now generally .admitted to be the
only conceivable source of the sun s heat. The opinion that it can
be obtained from combustion is not tenable for a moment. The
amount of heat radiated is so enormous that, if the sun were a mass
of burning coal, it would all be consumed bodily in 5,000 years ! *
On the other hand, a pound of coal falling on the surface of the sun

1 To maintain the present rate of radiation it would require the combustion of 1,500
pounds of coal on every square foot of the sun s surface per hour. Croll, 346.

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 671

from an infinite distance would produce 6,000 times more heat from
concussion than it would generate by its combustion. An idea of the
amount of energy exerted by one pound weight falling into the sun
will be conveyed by stating that it would be sufficient to hurl the
Warrior, with all its stores, guns, and ammunition, over the top
of Ben Nevis ! 1 But, if we accept gravitation as the source of energy,
we accept a cause, the value of which can be mathematically deter
mined with very considerable accuracy.

The amount of heat given off by radiation in a year s is known ;
the total amount of work performed by gravitation in condensing a
nebulous mass to an orb of the sun s present size is known. The re
sult is, that the amount of heat thus produced by gravitation would
suffice for about twenty millions and a quarter of years. This is on
the assumption that the nebulous matter composing the sun was origi
nally cold, and that heat was generated in* it by the process of con
densation only. It is, however, quite conceivable that the nebulous
mass possessed a store of heat previous to condensation, and that the
very reason why it existed in the gaseous condition was that its tem
perature was excessive. The particles composing it would have had
a tendency, in virtue of gravitation, to approach one another if they
had not been kept apart by the repulsive energy of heat ; it is not,
then, unreasonable to suppose that the attenuated and rarefied mass
was vaporous by reason of heat, and began to condense only when its
particles began to cool. By the known laws under which heated
gases condense, the amount of heat originally possessed by the gas
bears a definite and known proportion to the amount of heat gener
ated by condensation ; and, on the assumption that the analogy holds
good in the case of the sun, which holds in the condensation of other
heated gases, nearly fifty millions of years heat must have been stored
up in the mass as original temperature. This, added to the twenty
and a quarter millions which resulted from gravitation, gives rather
more than seventy millions of years sun-heat.

As, however, this quantity gives the total amount of heat given
out by the mass since it began to condense, the earth could not have
had an independent existence till long after that time. The sun must
have had time to condense from its outer limits as a nebula, to within

1 The velocity with which a body falling from an infinite distance would reach the
sun would be equal to that which would be generated by a constant force equal to the
weight of the body at the sun s surface operating through a space equal to the sun s
radius. One pound would at the sun s surface weigh about twenty-eight pounds. Taking
the sun s radius at 441,000 miles, the energy of a pound of matter falling into the sun
from infinite space would equal that of a 28-pound weight descending upon the earth from
tin elevation of 441,000 miles, supposing the force of gravity to be as great at that ele
vation as it is at the earth s surface. It would amount to upward of 65,000,000,000
foot-pounds.

2 The total amount radiated from the whole surface of the sun per annum is 8,340
x 10 30 foot-pounds. Croll, 346.

6 7 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the limit of the earth s orbit, before that separate existence could
begin ; for before then the earth must have formed part of the fiery
mass of the sun. This calculation, like the others, falls short by near
ly two hundred millions of years of the period estimated by Sir Charles
Lyell for the commencement of life upon the earth.

But it would not be satisfactory to see a theory upset, if with the
theory the means of accounting for observed facts were also destroyed.
One great reason which weighs with geologists in assigning an almost
incalculable age to the earth is, that among the fossils of the latest
glacial epoch there are found the remains of tropical plants and ani
mals, deposited in alternate strata with the remains of temperate
climates, and this not once, but many times over. A hot climate pre
vailed at one time, and the earth became peopled with the flora and
fauna appropriate to those conditions : after a lapse of many ages, the
land subsided, and became the bed of the ocean; a vast period of up
heaval then ensued, and dry land once more appeared : the climate
gradually changed and ice set in : after ages more there was another
slow subsidence, another equally slow upheaval, and another change
of climate ; and so on without end. Seeing the slow way in which the
land sinks or is upheaved nowadays, it naturally appeared that no
conceivable lapse of time could be enough to explain that which had
obviously taken place.

Mr. Croll, however, has recently afforded an explanation at once
beautiful, simple, and complete. About the facts to be accounted for
there can be no doubt. The land has been many times under the sea,
and the most violent changes of climate have succeeded one another.
Mr. Croll s explanation is partly astronomical, and partly rests on
geological dynamics. The heat of the sun is great in proportion to
his distance from the earth. This distance is greater at one time of
the year than another. The orbit of the earth is not quite circular,
but its eccentricity varies slowly from century to century. It is just
now very small, and the summer of the northern hemisphere happens
when the earth is at its greatest distance from the sun. Both these
circumstances tend to produce in Europe a moderate climate. But
the longitude of the perihelion, as this state of things is called, is con
stantly changing, and the line joining the solstices moves round the
orbit in about twenty-one thousand years. It follows that every ten
thousand years, or thereabouts, the winter of the northern hemisphere
will occur when the earth is at its farthest from the sun ; and, if at that
time the earth s orbit is very eccentric, the two causes combined will
produce a very severe climate. Eleven thousand years hence the
northern hemisphere will be nearest to the sun in summer, and farthest
from him in winter. Now, if, when that state of things occurred, the
eccentricity of the earth s orbit happened to be very great if the
earth in winter-time was at a part of her orbit several millions of
miles farther from, and in summer-time was very much nearer, the

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 673

sun than she is now, the climate of the northern hemisphere would be
very different from what it is.

One such period of great eccentricity occurred about two million
five hundred thousand years ago. Fifty thousand years later there
was another. Again, eight hundred and fifty thousand years ago
there was a third, and two hundred thousand years ago a fourth.
Those periods were characterized by cold such as we have no concep
tion of. More than arctic winter lingered far on into the spring, and
unmelted ice of one year accumulated through the next, till from the
pole to the south of Scotland the earth was covered with a vast ice
cap, probably several miles in thickness.

Now, in Europe and America, wherever in fact any records are
left of the glacial epoch, it is remarked that a general subsidence of
the land followed closely on the appearance of the ice. This fact led
certain geologists to conclude that there was some physical connection
between the two phenomena, and Mr. Jamieson suggested to the Geo
logical Society that the crust of the earth might have yielded under
the enormous weight of the ice. Mr. Croll, however, gives a different
explanation; and the more it is understood the more it appears to
gain ground with those capable of forming an opinion. He says that
the surface of the ocean always adjusts itself in relation to the earth s
centre of gravity, no matter what the form of the earth happens to be.
If a large portion of the water of the ocean were formed into solid ice,
and placed round the north pole, its weight would naturally change
the centre of gravity of the earth. The centre would be changed a
little to the north of its former position. The water of the ocean
would then forsake its old centre, and adjust itself with reference to
the new. The surface of the ocean will therefore rise toward the
north pole, and fall toward the south. The land will not sink under
the sea, but, what amounts to the same thing, the sea will rise upon
the land. The extent of submergence will be in proportion to the
weight of the ice.

It is easy to see that glaciation would not be contemporaneous on
both hemispheres. One hemisphere would be covered with ice and
snow, while the other would be enjoying a perpetual spring. A gla
cial epoch resulting from the eccentricity of the earth s orbit would
extend over a period of a hundred thousand years. But, for the reason
given above, the glaciation would be transferred from one hemisphere
to another every ten thousand years. A glacial epoch extending over
a hundred thousand years would therefore be broken up into several
warm periods. The warm period in one hemisphere would coincide
with the cold one in the other, and there would be elevation of the
land during the warm period and subsidence during the cold.

This cause would be quite sufficient to effect the alternate upheaval
and depression. During the successive ages that each pole alternately
was subjected to glaciation, the winter ice, unmelted by the brief sum-
YOL. ix. 13

674 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mer, would accumulate till a cap many thousand feet thick formed at
the pole, and would ultimately spread far down into what is now the
temperate zone. If such an ice-cap were only equal in density to 1,000
feet of earth, accumulated, say, on the north side of the globe, the cen
tre of gravity would be shifted 500 feet to the north ; and as the ocean
would accommodate itself to the centre there would be a subsidence
at the north pole equal to 500 feet. But this is not all, for at the
time the ice-sheet was forming on the northern hemisphere, a sheet of
equal size would be melting on the southern. This would double the
effect, and produce a total submergence of 1,000 feet at the north pole
and a total elevation of 1,000 feet at the south pole.

It is clear that all the upheavals and submergences of land which
have so impressed geologists with the immensity of time required for
their execution can thus be accounted for within periods, stupendous
indeed if compared to historical time, or even to the duration of man
on the earth, but still conceivable by human imagination. The night
mare of subsidence and emergence need no longer oppress the geolo
gist. He has only to remark surface-changes and see how far forces
now at work are capable of effecting them, and, if so, how long they
would take. The discovery of Mr. Croll upsets the whole scale of geo
logical time. Sir Charles Lyell was quite right in saying that the
earth could not have subsided and emerged from the sea half a dozen
times, in less than a million of years, if it sank or rose in the leisurely
manner which has characterized it in recent times : consequently he
could not accept as "the glacial epoch" the most recent period of
great eccentricity. He was obliged to go back to the next, which
happened nearly a million years ago. Sir Charles LyelPs standard of
measurement is the date of the age of ice. If, therefore, the age of ice
is assigned to a period 200,000 years ago instead of a million years
ago, the standard of Sir Charles Lyell is diminished by four-fifths ;
and, adapting his conclusions to the altered premises, we should have
forty-eight millions of years instead of two hundred and forty millions
for the age of the fossiliferous rocks.

This change of standard would agree very well with the fact that
there are evidences in the Eocene and Miocene periods of ice ages an
tecedent to the last. These might well be referred to the former
periods of high eccentricity.

Enormous as are the periods which have undoubtedly passed since
the creation of the world, it need not startle us to be told that every
succession of events of which we have any evidence may well have
occurred within a manageable number of millions of years. Could we
stand, as Mr. Croll says, upon the edge of a gorge a mile and a half
in depth, that had been cut out of the solid rock by a tiny stream
scarcely visible at the bottom of this fearful abyss, and were we in
formed that the little streamlet was able in one year to wear off
only one-tenth of an inch of its rocky bed, what would be our concep-

THE PROBABLE AGE OF THE WORLD. 675

tion of the prodigious length of time that it must have taken to exca
vate the gorge ? We should certainly feel startled when on making
the necessary calculations we found that the stream had performed
this enormous amount of work in something less than a million years.
The absolute settlement of the question must ever be above our
powers. For a few centuries only we have the comparative daylight
of historical times; thence backward lies the rapidly-gathering twi
light of tradition ; beyond that, geological periods the duration of
which can be only vaguely guessed at, and beyond all these, far back
in past eternity, the epoch when Time began. The old belief, which
limited the existence of the earth to less than seven thousand years,
gave way once for all, almost within living memory. All men are
now agreed that the six days of creation were periods of indefinite
extent. They are not solar days for evening happened and morning
happened three times over before the sun was created. Not being
days measured by the sun, we know not how many thousands of years
they may have endured. The reaction was sudden and complete.
Geology jumped to the conclusion that the past history of the world
was without any limits that human imagination could conceive. But
in quite recent years, as we have tried to show, the calm light of sci
ence has proved that the practical eternity of matter is not more
tenable than the arbitrary limitation by which thought was formerly
confined.

"I dare say," says Prof. Tait, "that many of you are acquainted with the
speculations of Lyell and others, especially of Darwin, who tell us that even
for a comparatively brief portion of recent geological history three hundred
millions of years will not suffice ! We say so much the worse for geology as
at present understood by its chief authorities, for .... physical considera
tions render it impossible that more than ten or fifteen millions of years can be
granted."

Sir William Thomson is not so sweeping in his assertion : but
then the nature of the problem before him did not require any such
opinion at his hands. His argument aimed at disproving Playfair s
assertion that neither the heavenly bodies nor the earth offered any
evidence of a beginning, or any advance toward an end. If, there
fore, Sir William Thomson was able to show that there was good
evidence both of a beginning and an end, he was not concerned to
speculate how long past time had existed, or when the end would
come. His summing up is this :

"We must admit some limit. . . . Dynamical theory of the sun s heat ren->
ders it almost impossible that the earth s surface has been illuminated by the
sun many times ten million years. And when finally we consider underground
temperature we find ourselves driven to the conclusion that the existing state of
things on the earth, life on the earth, and all geological history showing conti
nuity of life, must be limited within some such period of past time as one hun
dred million years."

676 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

We have passed in rapid review the evidence upon which guesses,
more or less plausible, as to the age of the world, have been founded.
Whatever may be the opinion at which men will ultimately arrive, it
cannot but be satisfactory to note from how many quarters and in
how many ways Natural Science has in latter days cast light on the
inquirer s path. Quarterly Review.

THE LOCAL DISTRIBUTION- OF PLANTS AND THE
THEORY OF ADAPTATION.

BY LESTER F. WARD, A. M.

rriHERE is one class of facts in the geographical distribution of
-L plants which has not received, at the hands of botanists, the
degree of attention which its importance justifies.

I do not refer to those wide general phenomena which a compari
son of the floras of different countries renders so striking, and by
which the more humble and restricted class to which I would call at
tention is usually eclipsed. Such general considerations are, it is
true, exceedingly interesting and important, and are in no danger of
receiving too much attention. Nothing could be more absorbing
than a close comparative analysis of the vegetation of different hemi
spheres, continents, islands, and zones, of the globe. The most casual
survey of such fields reveals marvels, the mere acquaintance with
which excites in the mind of the botanist the liveliest interest and
pleasure. The strange and leafless euphorbias of South Africa, with
their naked, green, parenchymous branches ; the equally singular and
grotesque cactuses of America answering to them; the anomalous
vegetation of Australia, with its shadeless forests due to their vertical
foliage ; the absence of oaks east of the Ural Mountains, and of heaths
on this side the Atlantic ; the confinement of the genus Rosa to the
northern and of the genus Calceolaria to the southern hemisphere
these and numberless other kindred facts connected with the general
distribution of plants over the globe are justly calculated to excite
the most intense interest, and have given rise to a variety of theories
designed to account for them.

The phenomena, however, to which I would more particularly refer,
come much nearer home, and may be presumed to have attracted the
attention, more or less forcibly, of every one at all conversant with
plants. They constitute a distinct class, and may be described in gen
eral terms as facts unfavorable to the received theory of adaptation.

It has long been regarded as a law of life, applicable alike to animal
and vegetable forms, that each species is exactly adapted to the par
ticular habitat where it occurs ; and naturalists, assuming this law,

THE LOCAL DISTRIBUTION OF PLANTS. 677

have sought to solve the problem how this remarkable adaptation has
been brought about, instead of pausing to question the alleged law of
adaptation itself. And yet there have never been wanting numerous
and obvious facts, especially in the vegetable kingdom, which, if in
terpreted at all, must be conceded to be incompatible with such a law,
at least unless materially modified and greatly enlarged.

Mr. Thomas Meehan has remarked the fact that " almost all of
our swamp-trees grow much better when they are transferred to drier
places, provided the land is of fair quality. He referred, among others,
to sweet-bay, red maple, weeping-willow, etc., as within his own re
peated observations growing better out of swamps than in them."
He further observes that " plants as a general rule, even those known
as water-plants, prefer to grow out of water, except those that grow
almost entirely beneath the surface." 1

A great many facts are at hand to prove that those plants which
are found habitually growing in wet ground may be easily made to
grow in dry ground. The Iris versicolor (blue flag), which, in a state
of Nature, grows universally in marshes, and keeps perpetual com
pany with Nuphar (pond-lily) and Sagittaria (arrow r -head), is a com
mon occupant of the driest gardens. The Lobelia cardinalis (cardinal-
flower), which I have found below tide-water mark, is also a common
garden-flower, and not difficult to cultivate. Almost as much may be
said for Lobelia syphilitica (great lobelia). The calla, the caladiums,
and the anthuriums, belong to this class, and the list might be in
definitely extended.

But differences of moisture in the soil are not the only ones which
are often overcome by natural or artificial changes in the conditions
of growth. Most of our prettiest wild-flowers which are found grow
ing in deep, shaded glens in pure leaf-mould, have been captured by
florists, and made to thrive as well, and often better, under a cultiva
tion which, with their most faithful efforts to imitate it, must be a
complete alteration of their native condition of life. Of such might
be mentioned at random the Trillium (wake-robin), the Cypripedium
(lady s-slipper), the Dicentra (Dutchman s breeches), the Vvularia
(bell wort), the Erythronium (dog s-tooth violet), etc.

So, too, plants growing under other conditions, as on hillsides,
and in open woods or meadows, as the violets, hepaticas, anemones,
and others, offer no difficulty to the florist.

These are cases in which the transfer is from apparently more
favorable conditions to those less favorable. But similar results follow
from a reversal of this order. Plants may be successfully transferred
to ordinary garden-soil from localities which we would naturally sup
pose to be less favorable to growth, but to which these seem to be
specially adapted. The columbine (Aquilegia), which grows on rocks,
often with scarcely any soil in which to root, or emerges from narrow
1 See POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY for May, 1874, p. 126.

678 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

crevices between them, is planted in gardens where it thrives equally
well. The same is true of the Cacti, which, taken from the arid plains
where their indurated watery stalks and branches store up the water
which the climate so long denies them, thrive under cultivation with
undiminished vitality. The Agave, or American aloe, furnishes a
similar illustration, and every few years a gorgeous century-plant
blooms under cultivation, to the infinite delight of its owner.

Equally striking results take place under the influence of man
without his design or selection. There are a great many indigenous
plants which are rarely found outside of the influence of human culti
vation. They emerge from their obscure natural retreats at the ap
proach of civilization, spread rapidly over fields and pastures, and
often become formidable enemies of the farmer and the gardener.
Under the general name of weeds they are proscribed and pursued,
and no effort is spared for their extermination. They also invade towns
and cities, overrun vacant lots, disfigure parks and plats, and force
themselves into pavements and " crannied walls." Ambrosia trifida
(the great rag-weed) forms forests in waste -grounds and neglected
gardens. A. artemisicefolia (Roman wormwood) is one of the farm
er s most persistent pests, and resists all efforts at extermination.
The cocklebur and thorny clotbur (Xanthium strumarium and X. spi-
nosum) warn us of their disagreeable presence wherever we go. Poly-
gonum aviculare (knot-grass) and other species invade our door-yards
and threaten to cross our thresholds. Euphorbia maculata (spotted
spurge) spreads its prostrate and symmetrical mats over the dry and
gravelly walks. Spergularia rubra (sand spurrey) unfolds its rosy
petals to the hottest July sun upon the parching bricks beneath our
feet. Erigeron Ganadense (horse-weed), Epilobium angustifolium
(great willow-herb), Gnaphalium polycephalum (common everlast
ing), and a host of other indigenous weeds, overrun the cultivated
fields and commons wherever man has impressed his influence upon
primitive Nature.

This phenomenon, however, becomes still more obtrusive when we
turn to introduced species. Arid, if it be claimed that the transfer from
wasje places in the Old World to similar waste places in the New is
not a change of conditions, we have only to remove our point of ob
servation to Europe or Asia to render all that has been said of indige
nous plants applicable also to adventive ones. For, unless we are
willing to go further in admitting the transmutation of species than
the founders of that doctrine, we must assume that each of these spe
cies has had a native habitat somewhere, and its preference for prox
imity to human habitations is unexplainable on any theory of original
adaptation.

Illustrations on this point would be quite superfluous, as these
plants constitute the bulk of all our weeds, and present themselves at
every turn. I might mention the ubiquitous ox-eye daisy (J^eueanthe-

THE LOCAL DISTRIBUTION OF PLANTS. 679

mum vulgare), the iniquitous Canada thistle (Cirsium arvense), and
the obnoxious burdock (Lappa officinalis), as examples of species which
shape with man, not only his cosmopolitan character, but also some
of his vices. But these foreign immigrants often furnish us with one
of the most striking exemplifications of the anomaly, if such it may
still be called, which I am endeavoring to illustrate.

It frequently happens that a plant, taken from one country into
another having an entirely different flora, thrives more vigorously
than it did at home, and even threatens to drive out indigenous spe
cies. Some of the species last mentioned belong to this class, particu
larly the Canada thistle, which, notwithstanding its popular name,
has been introduced into this country from Europe, and has spread not
only over Canada and New England, but far south and west. Cnicus
lanceolatus (common thistle) is only less prominent because less trou
blesome. The same is true of many plants of the mint family, partic
ularly Nepeta glechoma (ground-ivy). On the other hand, some Ameri
can species, like Erigeron Canadense, have migrated by the aid of man
into almost every country on the globe, always thriving best where civ
ilization is highest. But some of these do not confine themselves to the
circle of man s protective influence. Sometimes they strike out into
the forest or spread over the plains, carrying dismay to the native
vegetation. Mr. Darwin, speaking of the introduction into South
America of the cardoon (Cynara cardunculus), a congener of the
artichoke, says : " It occurs in these latitudes on both sides of the
Cordillera, across the continent. I saw it in unfrequented spots in
Chili, Entre Rios, and the Banda Oriental. In the latter country
alone, very many (probably several hundred) square miles are covered
by one mass of these prickly plants, and are impenetrable by man or
beast. Over the undulating plains, where these great beds occur,
nothing else can now live. Before their introduction, however, the
surface must have supported, as in other parts, a rank herbage. I
doubt whether any case is on record of an invasion on so grand a
scale of one plant over the aborigines." x He also mentions other
analogous cases, though of a character less marked.

This love of change, if I may so characterize it, seems to inhere in
the entire vegetable kingdom. Not even climate avails to overcome
it, as is evidenced by the rapid invasion from the tropics of many
plants whenever the presence of man in any manner creates the con
ditions favorable to their migration. Conspicuous among these are
Chenopodium (pigweed), Amarantus (amaranth), Ipomcea (morning-
glory), and others.

If we take a wider view of this class of phenomena, we may per
ceive that it is only by an extension of the same principle that all the
beneficial changes made by man in the vegetable kingdom have be
come possible. Every plant he has improved and rendered subservi-
1 " Naturalist s Voyage round the World," p. 119.

68o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ent to his purposes has become what it is in obedience to an inherent
tendency to exchange its original condition for a better one. And it
is by taking advantage of this tendency and creating such better con
ditions that man has drawn it into his service.

This willingness and often eagerness in plants to change their
habitat, sometimes without the least acclimation, enlarges, therefore,
from the mere lusus naturae which it at first appeared to be, into a
law which is coextensive with plant-life. In view of the facts adduced,
and others which will occur to the reader, we may conclude that the
law of adaptation as popularly held requires extensive qualification if
allowed to stand at all; that it is rather apparent than real; that
large classes of facts are marshaled against it, and that some wider
law is perpetually overruling it. The adaptations of Nature of which
we hear so much are not perfect. Nature does not provide each spe
cies with a habitat best suited to its fullest development. But every
plant is at all times ready to change its habitat for a better one, arid
this is actually going on whenever occasion permits.

Let us now inquire whether the facts enumerated admit of any
general explanation. Mr. Meehan proposes to account for the better
growth of swamp-trees in drier soil by maintaining that their seeds
cannot germinate in dry ground. If this be true, it is a worse com
mentary on the theory of adaptation than I am willing myself to
make without further proof. Certainly no intelligent adapting power
could originate so gross and apparently gratuitous an inadaptation as
an organism doomed to live out its existence under conditions un
favorable to its healthy development, because, forsooth, it could begin
its career only under such conditions ! But, as both the theory and
the commentary rest on a teleological basis, they are both worthless
from a scientific point of view.

But, however this may apply to the trees enumerated by him, it
certainly does not apply to many plants of the same class which I
have named, for florists propagate them from the seed when they
choose. Still less can this explanation be admitted to account for any
of the other classes from which illustrations have been drawn. And,
indeed, I am not aware that any attempt has ever been made to bring
forward a rational explanation of a general character for the facts
under consideration. Botanists, generally, seem to have been either
too much dazed by the light of those more universal and striking
features to which attention was called at the outset, or too intent on
the special study of the facts themselves, independent of the lessons
they inculcate, to have worked out a solution for the problem I have
been seeking to present. But the chief obstacle, after all, to such a
solution, is to be found in the satisfaction which every one seems to
feel with the old explanation, viz., that plants grow in particular
places because they are adapted to them and to no other, which, as
we have seen, is opposed by a strong array of facts.

THE LOCAL DISTRIBUTION OF PLANTS. 681

In this theory of perfect natural adaptation, whether it be left to
stand upon its old teleological basis, or be placed, as some modern
investigators would place it, upon a genetic one, a very important
factor has been left out, viz., the influence which plants exert upon
one another. Adaptation, as the term is employed, is applied to a
supposed correlation between the plant and its inorganic environ
ment ; and to this alone is attributed their entire local distribution.
But facts of the class above considered prove that this is not only an
inadequate explanation of such distribution, but that it is in many
cases no explanation at all, since they so generally disregard inor
ganic conditions, and thrive equally well or better under entirely dif
ferent ones from those which Nature furnished. Their distribution
must, therefore, be almost entirely attributed to some other condi
tions; and to what other conditions are they subjected but to organic
ones, to those which they reciprocally impose upon each other ? It is
to these organic conditions, then, to the mutual influence of different
kinds of vegetation, growing, as it always does in a state of Nature,
in close local proximity and contact, that we must look for the chief
laws that control the local distribution of plants.

The modification, therefore, of the adaptation theory, or rather
the substitute for it, which, in the light of these facts, I would pro
pose might be called the law of mutual repulsion^\)j which every
individual, to the extent of its influence, repels the approach of every
other and seeks the sole possession and enjoymenf of the inorganic
conditions surrounding it this mutual repulsion results at length in
a statical condition which is always brought about through the action
of the vital forces themselves, and which, as soon as reached, deter
mines absolutely the exact place and degree of development of each
species and each individual.

It is this statical condition which is apt to be lost sight of in the
modern philosophy of evolution. The modification of species, the
survival and advancement of some and the depauperating and extinc
tion of others, all forms of variation and transmutation these are
dynamical phenomena, and only take place under the influence of dis
turbing agencies. Changes of this kind are slow and secular, and lie
beyond the reach of direct observation, perceptible only to the eye of
reason on the closest comparison of large masses of dependent facts.
They, therefore, long escaped observation, and Nature remained until
recent times a sealed book with respect to them. What wonder, then,
that this still deeper and more occult law of biological statics should
have remained still longer undetected, or only dimly seen ? For, un
derlying this dynamical movement in organized beings, there must
exist a universal statical condition throughout organic as throughout
inorganic Nature.

The changes of which science has at length caught a glimpse can
be nothing more than the regular and cyclical or fitful and spasmodic

682 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

disturbances of a deeper and universal state of forced equilibrium,
which pervades the vital as it is known to pervade the mechanical
world. And just as astronomers and physicists, confining their inves-
ti< r ations to the more obvious and perceptible motions of celestial and
terrestrial bodies, long remained ignorant of the law of gravitation
which constantly forces all things into a state of equilibrium, so in
biology the statical condition has been lost sight of in the effort to
obtain better views of that moving panorama which a broader knowl
edge of the phenomena of life so unmistakably unfolds. Yet, without
a clear recognition of this statical law, it is impossible to account for
the facts presented by the distribution of plants, and it will doubtless
be found equally essential to the full comprehension of many other
phenomena of Nature. But, when we recognize this law, the whole
aspect of our question is changed. Plants appear to be no longer in
a state of perfect adaptation to their surroundings.

There is no longer a necessary correspondence and correlation be
tween organism and habitat, no longer necessary that rhythmical
(almost preestablished) harmony between species and environment.
This need only exist so far as is necessary to render the life of the
species possible. Beyond this the greatest inharmony and inadapta-
tion may be conceived to reign in Nature. Each plant may be re
garded as a reservoir of vital force, as containing within it a potential
energy far beyond and wholly out of consonance with the contracted
conditions imposed upon it by its environment, and by which it is
compelled to possess the comparatively imperfect organization with
which we find it endowed. Each individual is where it is, and what
it is, by reason of the combined forces which hedge it in and deter
mine its very form. Each species is the perpetual and inexorable
antagonist of every other. The "struggle" is not alone "for exist
ence," it is also for place. In the plant races, as in the human, there
is a recognized hierarchy, the laws of which are as yet to a great
extent involved in mystery. But the first principle, as in the rest of
Nature, is force. Each one encroaches with all the power of vegetal
growth upon its neighbors. This pressure is enormous. Who shall
calculate this subtilest of molecular forces ? Yet there is no displace
ment, no motion. So thoroughly has every nook and chink been filled
that there is no room for motion. Like the all-pervading circumam
bient air, its power is not felt so long as no vacuum is produced.
Each organism has long since reached the limit of its power to extend
its dominion. The plant grows up from the germ to maturity under
a constant surveillance, and every attempt to overstep its fixed limits
is instantly checked. It stands in its fixed position, locked in the
embrace offerees which permit it neither to advance nor retreat.

Such is the state of equilibrium which is always and necessarily
reached in a state of Nature, and in which man first finds each newly-
discovered flora. But let these statical conditions be once changed,

THE LOCAL DISTRIBUTION OF PLANTS. 683

whether by the advent of man or from whatever cause, and this equi
librium is immediately disturbed. The chained forces are set free ; a
general swarming begins ; some individuals are destroyed, others are
liberated ; each pushes its advantage to the utmost, and all move for
ward in the direction of least resistance, till at length they again
mutually neutralize each other, and again come, under new conditions
and modified forms, into the former state of quiescence.

The most frequent and prominent cause of these disturbances of
the natural fixity of vegetation is the influence of man. The results
of this influence may be said to be the products of agriculture, horti
culture, and floriculture, on the one hand, and, on the other, weeds.
But there may be many other causes of disturbance besides that pro
duced by man, such as the appearance of new animals, geological
revolutions, or climatal and meteorological vicissitudes. Anything
which destroys the stability which the perpetually-operating vegetal
forces impose upon the plants of any region is certain to reveal a
latent vitality, which, when liberated, proves itself capable of profiting
by conditions far different from, and superior to, those under which it
is originally found. The willow, the alder, the elm, and the sycamore,
hug the banks of streams because baffled and beaten back at every
attempt to invade the drier ground. The wild-columbine and the
saxifrage are driven into their rocky fastnesses by more powerful
rivals for the rich forest loams. The thistle and the chamomile flour
ish in lawns and commons because their human foes are less formi
dable than the enemies of the plain. The fruit-trees, the cereals, and
the roses, reach those wonderful heights of development under man s
care, because he not only proves their friend, but wards off all their
enemies. And just here it should be remarked that the alleged ten
dency of cultivated plants to relapse, when neglected, into their ori
ginal state, upon which Prof. Agassiz laid so much stress as an unan
swerable argument against transmutation, becomes, under the law of
mutual repulsion, the necessary result of remanding them to their old
conditions. As man s care and protection were necessary to enable
them to advance, so, when these are withdrawn, they must be expected
to again yield to hostile forces, and fall back to the level of their
original state. It is not the special adaptation of a plant for the spot
on which it grows, so much as the hostile attitude of other plants
around it, which restricts and determines its range. The elements
which decide where plants shall grow, are to be found in vegetation
itself, and not in inorganic conditions. The power of self-adaptation
which they possess is sufficient to habituate almost any species to
almost any inorganic conditions. Each species, therefore, keeps
within its own restricted limits, not because it cannot live in other
soils, but because prior occupants forbid it to come.

The law of adaptation may therefore be reduced to this : that
every plant possesses the power of self-adaptation to such a degree

634 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

that, no matter under what conditions it may be compelled, by the
higher law of mutual repulsion, to live, it will mould its own organism
into harmony with those conditions, and thus continue its existence ;
and this, whether it is required to adopt a more perfect or a less per
fect form.

But what it actually is, is no criterion of what it is capable of be
coming, and the locality in which it is found is no evidence that it is
best adapted to such a locality. These data only prove that in the
final balance of forces to which it is subjected it was assigned such
a degree of development and such a habitat.

OBSERVING THE INTERIOR OF THE EYE. 1

BY JULIUS BERNSTEIN.

PROFESSOR OF PHYSIOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF HALLE.

retina is the point where the physical process of vision passes
-- into the physiological process. Until it impinges upon the retina,
the light which penetrates the eye has only undergone physical
changes, consisting chiefly in refraction, the last perceptible result of
which is the production of the image upon the retina. From this
point the process passes from our immediate observation, and the
difficulty of discovering its character increases at each step. The
image upon the retina is reversed, and yet we see every object in the
field of vision upright. This is the result of the experience, which we
have acquired from childhood, in the exercise of the organ of sight.
The point A (Fig. 1), which is on the right, is imprinted upon the left
portion of the retina, and we, therefore, know by experience that a

PIG. 1.

ray, coming from the right, mast strike the left portion of the retina;
and because we always imagine the objects we see to be external to
ourselves, we must do so by unconsciously following the line a A,
through the optical centre k. In this manner the eye projects a uni
form field of vision, which is obtained by drawing, from every point
of the retina outward, straight lines through the optical centre of the
eye, which lines will terminate upon a convex surface.

This is really the manner in which the eye interprets, in all cases,
1 From " The Five Senses of Man," Xo. XXI. of the " International Scientific Series."

OBSERVING THE INTERIOR OF THE EYE 685

its sensations of sight. For luminous appearances may be produced
without our perceiving any external object, but merely a part of the
eye or an inward irritation ; and yet, in the same manner, we imagine
them to be external to ourselves.

If we shut the eye, and press the head of a pin upon the outer
edge of the eyeball, we shall see in the dark field of vision a white or
colored spot of light, which has the same form as the compressing
body. It will be seen upon the left side of the field if the right side
is pressed, and upon the upper half if the lower is pressed, and vice
versa. The retina, therefore, extends as far as the part which projects
beyond the socket of the eye, and can be irritated by pressure. It is
well known that when the eye is struck a cloud of sparks is seen,
which is caused by the mechanical concussion of the retina. These
luminous images, often perceived involuntarily, take, speaking scien
tifically, the form of the body producing the pressure ; at the same
time we observe the relation between the position of the irritation
and the position of the sensation of sight. We transpose a point on
the left side of the retina to the right, because w r e imagine that a ray
of light has penetrated the eye from the right, which must fall upon
the left half of the retina.

We are also able to perceive particles within the interior of the
eye which are found in the transparent media. There are many per
sons who always see round particles or filaments, which seem to float
about in the field of vision. They may be more distinctly seen when
looking upon a bright surface a cloudy sky, or through a microscope.
They follow every motion of the eye, and have, moreover, a peculiar
motion of their own. These particles are produced by filaments and
cells, which may be found floating about in the narrow space between
the hyaloid membrane and the retina. They cast their shadow di
rectly upon the retina, which then, from experience, refers them to
external objects.

It has also been discovered by more careful observation that the
refracting media of the eye are not absolutely transparent, but that a
kind of cloudiness is seen in places which throw s a shadow upon the
retina. If we look at the sky through a small hole in a sheet of
paper, held a short distance from the eye, the hole will appear to be
surrounded by a colored fringe. This is caused partly by a cloudi
ness in the vitreous humor, and partly by the peculiar radiating
formation of the lens, already described. All such phenomena are
called entoptic, because they deal with the perceptions of the internal
portions of the eye. They are produced by the incident rays of light
casting shadows of these particles upon the retina. They are best
seen when an isolated pencil of light, like that admitted through a
small aperture, is allowed to fall upon the eye ; for, in that case, the
shadows produced are distinct, while they are generally obliterated in
ordinary vision, because the light penetrates the eye from all sides.

686

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

One of the most interesting entoptic phenomena is the Arborescent
Figure, discovered by Purkinje. If, toward evening, we place our
selves opposite a dark wall in a dark room, and move a lighted candle
to and fro before our eyes, looking, however, fixedly at the wall be
yond, we shall then, after a little practice, see this arborescent figure,
whose intersecting branches cover the whole of the dark space, and
which is unmistakably caused by the blood-vessels in the interior
of the eye. The field of vision assumes a reddish appearance, upon
which the veins stand out in dark shadows. The trunk of the figure
rises a little on one side of the centre, where the optic nerve enters
the eye, and thence branches out after the manner of blood-vessels,
which is undoubtedly a proof that in this experiment we see the
blood-vessels of the retina itself. One spot alone is free from vessels :
the yellow spot, which is the most sensitive to light of all parts of
the retina. If, now, the candle is moved to and fro, the figure will
also move and follow the direction of the light.

All these observations lead to the conclusion that we are thus
enabled to perceive the shadows of the vessels of the retina. That
these vessels cast a shadow behind them is clear, but that the shadow
should be sufficient to cause a perception leads to the very important
and interesting fact that the elements of the retina which receive the
impression of light must lie behind the blood-vessels. The diagram
in Fig. 2 will explain how the shadow of a vessel can produce an
image. If the light is placed at a its image will be depicted upon

FIG. 2.

the retina at b. At this particular spot no vessels will be seen, be
cause the light is too dazzling. But the image at b forms another
source of light, and, if there is a vessel at v, then its shadow will be
thrown upon c. Now, the retina projects the image perceived at c,
outward, through the optical centre &, to d, where the vessel appears
in the field of vision. If the light is now moved from a to a , then
the image will move from b to b , the shadow from c to c , and the
image of the vessel from d to d , thus performing the same move
ment as the light. We do not, however, generally perceive these
retinal vessels, because usually the light falls upon the retina from all

OBSERVING THE INTERIOR OF THE EYE. 687

points of the pupil, and therefore no distinct shadow can be pro
duced. In the experiment just described the light proceeds from a
single point only, 5, and produces a distinct shadow. Moreover, the
light is an unusual one, and throws the shadows upon places which
are not accustomed to receive it. This latter circumstance seems to
be of some importance, for, if the light is held perfectly still, the figure
gradually fades away, because the sensitiveness of the parts of the
retina upon which the shadow is becomes blunted; it appears again,
however, if the light is moved from side to side, so that the position
of the shadow is changed.

A considerable amount of light penetrates the eye through the
pupil, which is quite sufficient for the representation of the external
world, but none of this light seems to be reflected. The pupil of the
eye generally has a dark appearance, so that \ve cannot see farther
into the eye than the iris. It is, however, possible to illuminate the
eye in such a manner that all the parts of the retina may be seen.
This was first done in a satisfactory manner by the celebrated physi
cist Helmholtz, the discoverer of the ophthalmoscope. Before de
scribing this apparatus and its functions, we must discuss the fact of
the dark appearance generally presented by the pupil.

The amount of light reflected by the background of the pupil
cannot, of course, be very great; for the retina alone is able to reflect
light, and as it is very transparent, and has, moreover, a dark layer
of pigment immediately behind it, which absorbs all the light that
has penetrated to it, the reflection must necessarily be weak. We
know how difficult it is to see through a window into a room from the
street. This is due to the small amount of light which comes through
the window, in comparison to that which penetrates the eye from with
out, so that the eye is not sufficiently sensitive to perceive the weaker
impression ; moreover, the reflection from the panes of glass consid
erably increases the difficulty of perceiving objects in the interior of
the room. If, however, the room is lighted up at night, we can see
the interior very distinctly from the outside, although the illumina
tion of the interior is weaker than it was in the daytime.

These circumstances also apply to the eye ; but there is another
circumstance which adds, to the difficulty of examining the interior
of the eye. The same fact makes it impossible to see the background
of a camera-obscura through the lens, even when it is white. Ac
cording to the laws of refraction, both the incident and emergent
rays in the eye, or in a camera-obscura, have a fixed direction,
while the light which proceeds from a room through the window is
diffused that is to say, emits rays in all directions. Let us suppose
an image of a lighted candle to be thrown upon the retina ; then, as
far as the refracting media of the eye are concerned, this imnge may
be regarded as a second object, the rays from which will take an out
ward, and therefore opposite direction. Now, this will be precisely

688 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the same as the path of the incident rays ; for if, at the point where
an image of an object has been formed by a lens, we place an exactly
similar object instead of the image, then an image will be formed in
the exact position of the first object, and of equal size. We see from
this experiment, therefore, that the rays of light, which are emitted
by an image formed upon the retina, must return to the object from
which they originally proceeded.

If, therefore, a light is placed before any eye which we wish to
examine, the rays will all be reflected by the eye into the light, and
we are unable to intercept them by our own eye, because we should
hide the light by placing ourselves between it and the eye under ex
amination. By means, however, of a transparent plate of glass, this
obstacle may be overcome, and the eye examined when illumined, in
the manner represented in Fig. 3. C is the eye under observation, J2

PIG. 3.

the observer s eye, and the plate of glass, S 9 forms an angle of 45
with the line between the two eyes. The rays emitted by the lighted
candle, A, strike the glass plate, $, and are partly reflected into the
eye, which they illuminate. The rays reflected by the eye, (7, again
strike the glass plate, w 7 hich some of them penetrate, and pass into
the eye of the observer, and the remainder return to the light, A.
The pupil of the eye, (7, may now be seen brightly illuminated, and
even the illuminated retina can be seen more or less distinctly. The
rays emitted by the image formed upon the retina, which pass through
the glass plate, would form an image at a, which is at the same dis
tance from the glass plate as A. The rays are, however, intercepted
by the observer, _Z?, who is thus enabled to examine a part of the
retina.

In fact, a piece of window-glass placed in an oblique position, as
described above, is the simplest form of an ophthalmoscope, and may
easily be arranged by any one who wishes to make the experiment for
himself. An ordinary piece of glass is sufficient for the purpose, if
placed in the same position, relatively to the eye under observation
and the light, as that shown in the figure. It is well to place a

OBSERVING THE INTERIOR OF THE EYE. 689

screen between the light and the person under observation, to prevent
any annoyance arising from the intensity of the light. The observer
must then place himself close in front of the person whose eye is un
der observation, hold the glass in tte manner described, and move it
about till the reflection of the light falls upon the eye. The illu
minated pupil will then be seen through the glass, and appear of a
reddish color.

But, in order to see the separate parts of the retina distinctly, it
is necessary to make use of lenses adjusted to the sight of the ob
server, and the refractive power of the eye under observation ; and
the result of such a combination is a perfect ophthalmoscope. The
glass, again, has been replaced with advantage by a mirror, generally
a concave mirror, with an aperture in the centre, through which the
observer looks. Fig. 4 shows the method of using this apparatus,
constructed after Ruete s plan. The light is placed near the person
under observation, A. The rays emitted fall upon the concave mir
ror, J, which reflects them into the eye under observation. The ob-

Fio. 4.

.
server, JB, looks through the aperture in the concave mirror, and

moves the two lenses, m and /, till they are in such a position that a
distinct image of the retina appears.

We are now in a position, with the aid of the ophthalmoscope, to
make a thorough examination of the retina. Fig. 5 gives a toler
able representation of all that we are able to distinguish of the image.
The background of the whole is of a dull red, while the point where
the optic nerve enters is distinguished as a round, bright spot, and we
may see rising out of its midst the retinal vessels, arteries, #, and
veins, &, which extend over the entire retina. The yellow spot also,
the point of most distinct vision, may be distinguished as a small
bright spot.

VOL. ix. 44

690 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The ophthalmoscope lias become an instrument of incalculable
value to the oculist. Many changes in the retina and interior of the
eye, which are due to disease, can be observed and examined by means
of the ophthalmoscope ; and, in fact, the medical treatment of the eye
has made an immense advance since the discovery of this instrument.

The eyes of many animals those of cats, for instance exhibit a
peculiar brilliancy, which is particularly remarkable in the dusk. It
was formerly thought that the eyes of such animals emitted light in
dependently, as it was also thought that light could be emitted by the
human eye, under the influence of passion. This brilliancy, however,
in the eyes of these animals is caused by a carpet of glittering fibres,
called the tapetum, which lies behind the retina, and is a powerful
reflector. In perfect darkness no light is observed in their eyes, a
fact which has been established by very careful experiments but,
nevertheless, a very small amount of light is sufficient to produce the
luminous appearance in them.

SCIENCE AND KELIGION AS ALLIES.

BY JAMES THOMPSON BIXBY.

THE antagonism between Science and Religion has become a com
monplace of literature. Both preachers and physicists have
narrated with bitterness of spirit the battles which they have
fought, the wrongs which they have suffered, the complaints which
they have to make, the one against the other. The combative have
plunged into the m$lfe 9 and with slashing pen or tongue given it new
asperity arid new sources of grievance. The peaceful have endeav-

SCIENCE AND RELIGION AS ALLIES. 691

ored by various reconciling schemes to persuade the combatants to
lay down their arms. Historical spirits have searched out and retold
the forgotten incidents of the struggle ; the philosophic-minded have
explored its secret springs. In one way or another all have drawn
the attention of the world to the hostile attitude of the two.

Now, it is true that there have been no small number of conflicts
between science and religion. But is the whole account of the rela
tion of the two contained in this ? Is there not another part to the
story ? I believe that there is.

Much, it seems to me, might be said in exhibition of the mutual
indebtedness of science and religion, as well as of their hostilities.
Having heard so much of late about the latter, perhaps it may not be
unprofitable to consider a little the other side of the shield.

In the first place, religion is much indebted to science. Science
has not been a mere iconoclast of everything sacred, but it has been
a real helper in the progress of religion.

In the marvelous adventures through which Rabelais conducted
his hero Pantagruel, a clime was reached so cold that- the words of the
men, it is said, as they passed the lips, froze and fell as hail on the
deck; but, brought near the fire, the congealed words thawed and
gave up their sounds. So, under the sunbeams of science, the dumb
matter, the frozen thought of the Creator, melted into intelligible
accents and spoke forth its secrets. Sun and cell, magnet and crys
tal, have each found a tongue and told the world of facts, exhibited
to it achievements that, if predicted a thousand years ago, would
have seemed like nothing but a chapter out of the Arabian Nights
Entertainments.

Now, these triumphs of science have not redounded merely to the
empty glory of their hero, but they have been solid contributions also
to the benefit of man and to the glory of God.

What other argument for the existence of God has done more for
theism than the argument from design ? In the admirable harmonies
and adaptations of the world, the natural theologian finds the most
convincing illustrations of a Supreme Intelligence anterior to the uni
verse. Whence is it that a knowledge of these instances of contriv
ance and order has been obtained ? Plainly, it is from the scientific
study of Nature that the overpowering strength of this argument has
been derived. Ordinary observation to be sure would, of course,
first suggest the argument and present not a few illustrations. Three
thouand years ago the Psalmist put those forceful questions " He
that planted the ear, shall he not hear? He that formed the eye,
shall he not see ? He that teacheth man knowledge, shall not he
know ? "

Here lies, indeed, the gist of the whole argument from design.
Yet it is to modern physical investigations, in anatomy, chemistry,
natural history, that we owe those exquisite illustrations of curious

692 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

adjustment and interdependence that in the hands of a Paley or a Sir
Charles Bell have given the design argument such force and sweep.
Compare the proofs of God s unity and intelligence open to a David
or a Paul with those wbich Prof. Cooke finds in chemistry, or Win-
chell in geology, or Agassiz in natural history, and how much more
manifold and marvelous the latter !

In the next place, science has been most helpful to religion in pu
rifying its faiths and guiding its reverences. Now, this is a service
that Faith much needs to have some one to do for her. For, sublime as
are her aspirations, her intellectul vision is but dim. Her eye fixed
on the heavens to which she would climb, she cannot discern dis
tinctly the steps by which it is reached. She needs science ever to be
at hand- to direct her. In her mounting instinct, Faith stretches up
her hand and clutches and clings to whatever she comes across. The
misshapen tree which rescued the savage from the wild beast ; the
black stone which fell from the sky; the serpent or the crocodile
whose strange form and power fascinate the primitive man such
are the objects that humanity, in its first dim gropings for an object
of worship, embraces. Religion may remain long in this groveling
stage, as it did among the Egyptians and Assyrians. But sooner or
later, as knowledge increases, the powerlessness and the worthless-
ness of such things for the worship of thinking men are seen. Faith
reaches up her hand to higher objects^ the invisible but potent
wind, the outstretched sky, the ethereal fire, the sun that warms
and lights the wnole earth. These are looked upon as mighty liv
ing beings, and venerated in solemn rites. But, again, as man
learned more of these the fixed laws which they obey the con
fined paths in which they move, and, in learning this, learned more
of himself he recognized in conscious Intelligence and the overrul
ing Will something greater than wind or fire. Faith raised her rev
erence, then, to a divinized humanity, a company of human gods
Jove, king of heaven, and Juno, queen ; Mercury, messenger of
the gods ; Cupid, inspirer of love; and so on. But, again, with the
growing comprehension of the unity of all Nature, man rose to the
idea of a single supreme deity, a Jehovah the eternal I am Brahma,
the one reality, of which all else are masks and shadows and thrust
down the other, deities into the position of divinities, spirits, and
devils. Still Religon had not got above superstition. She still clung
for a long time to burnt-offe"rings, and washings, a-nd fastings, macera
tions, and masses ; interferences by good and evil spirits ; ideas of
God as jealous, wrathful, appeasable, repenting of what he had once
done, interposing to mend his work. Gradually-increasing knowledge
pulled one after another of these rounds also out of the hands of
Religion, and her yearning fingers that must clasp something reached
up still higher on the ladder of divine apprehension, until at last she
grasped the conception of the universal, eternal action of One Infinite

SCIENCE AND RELIGION AS ALLIES. 693

Perfect Being, without parts, without partiality, and without shadow
of turning, to be worshiped only in spirit and in truth.

Science, to be sure, in this process of purification, has destroyed a
great deal that has been very dear to Faith. It has uprooted old ideas
and pulled down about our ears accepted systems both physical and
spiritual systems. The change in our views of the world has been
most radical.

What was the conception of the world held by the orthodox
churchman of the middle ages ? The earth was a square plain, at
whose outer edges rose mountain-walls, supporting the vault of
heaven. This vault was a solid crystal roof, wherein the fixed stars
were set, and over which moon and sun were pulled to and fro by the
angels. Above this firmament, separating the waters which are
above from the waters which are below, was the celestial cistern
through whose windows the rain fell. Above this, again, the seven-
storied heaven, in whose highest story dwelt Jehovah himself, seated
on his throne of glory, surrounded by angels and saints.

To-day, how has science stretched out this little cosmos ! The
astronomer has turned his telescope upon that adamantine firmament,
and it has dissoh r ed into thin air. The total solid particles that the
blue expanse contains, it has been estimated by Tyndall, might prob
ably be packed into a lady s traveling-bag. The glittering points
that gemmed its surface have expanded into enormous sums thou
sands of times as large as our own globe. The circumscribed heaven
of the Apocalypse, 12,000 furlongs each way, has spread out, from
that one-hundredth part of the cubic dimensions which we now know
our own earth to have, into an immensity of space which puts us so
far from the nearest fixed star that a locomotive could not reach it in
700,000 centuries ; and that even when we had attained this enormous
distance we should stand merely at the entrance of a starlight avenue,
down whose infinite vista come the rays from still more remote suns !
Our own earth, formerly the grand, immovable stage to which the
wandering sun and stars were only decorations, has been shriveled
into a petty pellet of cosmic stuff, dislodged from its fixed and cen
tral position, and sent whirling on its way as one of the smaller satel
lites in the train of a central body, which central body, though as
much larger than it as a cart-wheel is than a pea, is yet but one of
more than 20,000,000 suns contained in its own part of space ; and is
itself not stationary, but moving with its planetary fleet at the rate
of 4,000 miles a day round some still larger centre.

And in time, as well as space, has science enormously multiplied
the numbers. Where the Bible chronology gave sixty centuries for
the world s age, science demands as many millenniums. Where Gen
esis granted six days for the business of creation, geology requires
as many aeons. Science has mined in caverns and found man s tools
and weapons among the bones of mammoths. It has deciphered

694 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

hieroglyphics and found arts and history already venerable before
the date when commentators admitted that Adam was created. It
has learned how vast beds of chalk and limestone, miles in thickness,
have been manufactured by microscopic creatures ; how from a fiery
cloud the globe gathered to a molten ball, and on the molten ball
formed the crust that now suspends us above the still furnace-heated
interior. Learning little by little all this, science has been compelled
to put the date of the cosmic beginning back into an antiquity that,
in comparison with the Mosaic work, seems an eternity.

And in thus prolonging the age of man and the world, science has
altered our conception of the method by which the universe came
into existence. It can no longer be looked upon as created out of
nothing, at one grand tour deforce ; but as a process of organization,
a process continuous and alike in every atom. In the glowing, gaseous
nebula, in the curdled, nucleated fire-mist of the embryonic star, in
the more consolidated, but still molten, heaving mass of our sun, in
the ring-girt Saturn, the still steam-enveloped Jupiter, the sunny
summer-time of our own planet, are discerned by the modern physi
cist the various stages through which every planetary system passes.
From the heterogeneous to the homogeneous, from the diffused to the
compacted, from the unorganized to the organized, from the lifeless
to the living, this is the eternal rhythm of the cosmic evolution.

The cosmic evolution ! Yes, this is the further and mightier
change which science has made in our conceptions of the world s
government. In the current belief of Christendom even 200 years
ago, this earth was a world of decay and supernatural intervention,
ever to be dreaded. Powers of darkness were struggling w r ith the
powers of light in ceaseless efforts for the mastery. Close underneath
the earth s surface were the fiery pit and the gloomy realms of purga
tory. Through caverns and secret ways mischievous devil and per
turbed spirit passed up and down. The graveyards were haunted by
ghosts. A comet foreboded disaster to nations, and an earthquake
was the overture to the judgment-day.

By a compact with Satan a sorcerer could blight the harvest, or
lay low whomsoever he wished with fatal disease. Ordinary phe
nomena, of course, were supposed to take place as the result of the
natural arrangements instituted at the creation, but whatever was at
all out of the usual order was looked upon as a special intervention,
either of saint or magician, imp or angel, Satan or God, according to
its respective evil or goodness, littleness or greatness.

All this science has ejected from the belief of enlightened men.
Instead of a fall of the human race, and increasing ruin in the world,
science has shown the gradual upclimbing of the race from cave-
dwellings and garments of skin to the luxuries and enlightenments
of our present civilization. Men of science have been over the whole
earth and scrutinized the whole heavens, exploring every dark corner

SCIENCE AND RELIGION AS ALLIES. 695

and strange event. Their best instruments have caught sight of no
devil, their deepest mining-shaft has reached no limbo of departed
souls. They have traced beforehand the path that the comet would
pursue, found the cause of the earthquake, the connection of disease
with its physical antecedents and antidotes. Spectres have been re
duced to illusions of the visual organs, and lunacy to affections of the
cerebral lobes. The witches and imps of the old dispensation have
vanished before the light of modern knowledge like shadows of a
hideous night. Interruptions of the established order, whether by
wizard or holy exorcist; special dispensations and interventions,
whether from the realm of diablerie or providence, are no longer
credited; but law, inflexible law, without the slightest slip or varia
tion, is believed to reign always and everywhere. Lily and solar
system unfold according to one and the same formula. The hallucina
tion of the senses, the insane delirium, these also have their natural
sources from which they flow in a regular order. Even in the excep
tion lies hidden some deeper law.

With such a strong and iconoclastic hand has Science plied the axe
in the domain of Faith. As every one knows, it has been exceedingly
painful to many pious souls. It is charged that these reconstructions
which modern inquiry have made and are making unsettle all the
foundations of religion ; that they strip off the bloom of mystery and
sacredness from* the flowers of faith and conduct to irreverence. Are
they, in truth, to be deplored ? It seems to me that they are not, but
to be rejoiced at. It is true that they have given the death-blow to
many forms of faith. It is true that they have disabused us of many
ancient venerations. To-day, when we carry flame sealed in our vest-
pocket ready to come forth at the scratch of a match, no fire-deity, of
course, receives any longer the sacrifice of our first-born. To-day,
when we bottle up the lightning and make it our errand-boy, we no
longer revere it as the bolt of Jove. But for everything that Science
has taken away from Religion, she has given her something greater. If
she has weaned her of her blind awe of the unknown, she has substituted
a more rational awe of the known. If with ruthless hand she battles
down every baseless tradition and fond illusion, she consecrates with
religious veneration the simplest real fact. If Nature no longer is the
object of human dread, yet, as the useful storehouse whence we draw;
food and treasure, as the friendly Titan who performs for us tasks
beyond our unassisted power, it holds a higher place. If the astrono
mer s lens has dissipated the ancient heavens, it is to show us system
behind system of celestial bodies, blazing at immeasurable intervals
in the depths of illimitable space. If geology has taken away the
idea of a creation finished once for all in a certain six days of the year
B. c. 4004, it has given us instead a continual process of moulding
and perfecting carried on for 100,000,000 years. The rigorous prob
ing that science has given to Nature does not remove any of its won-

696 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

derfulness, any of its perfection, but rather has disclosed new marvels
behind those which first struck man s attention. The widening of
the circle of the unknown has only served to confront us with deeper
and deeper mysteries. Science has ruled out miracle and magic from
the order of events, but it is to pick up the wizard s wand itself, bring
up before us daily stranger and grander phenomena, only the more
inexplicable and amazing because of the certainty we feel that some
how there is no exception in them to our most ordinary experience.

Science has expelled witch and elf, nymph and demon, and thus
depopulated the supernatural world ; but in the place of this uncanny
brood, the thought of whose capricious intervention paralyzed the
will and debauched the heart, the universe has been filled with the
presence of One, Eternal and Infinite, from whose perfect law we can
never escape. The more clearly we discern the path on which science
has led the world, the less fear shall we have that it is all a prepara
tion for precipitating us into some godless abyss. Put the case
squarely before any one in its full significance, and there is no one, I
think, who would prefer to go back to the cosmic baby-house of the
middle ages. Who would vault in again the immensity of space ?
Who would cut down to six ordinary evenings and mornings the
activity of Him who inhabiteth eternity ? Who would relinquish the
confidence and hope inspired by the unswerving progress of that
single divine purpose that links the ages together ?

Thus has science given to the cause of faith assistance which more
than countervails whatever injury it may have done.

And so has Religion also, in reality, helped science helped, I be
lieve, even more than she has hindered.

It is to the understanding that the great achievements of physical
inquiry are commonly referred. Science is spoken of as a domain of
dry light and clear-cut facts, and religion is contrasted with it as the
realm of emotion. But how could the intellect have ever gained its great
victories without the aid of the heart ? how could the senses have ever
penetrated into Nature as they have done, had they not been carried
on the wings of the spirit ? What could science accomplish without
the emotions of enthusiasm and devotion, the instructive feeling of
truth and beauty, the love of Nature for its own dear sake ? " It is
in vain, I think," said Prof. Tyndall, at London, in 1869, " to separate
moral and emotional nature from intellectual nature. Let a man but
observe himself, and he will, if I mistake not, find that, in nine cases
out of ten, moral or immoral considerations, as the case may be, are
the motive force which push his intellect into action." The reading
of the works of three men, he proceeds to say Carlyle, Emerson,
and Fichte neither of them friendly to the scientific spirit, carried
him victoriously through mathematical studies and physical investi
gations, and made him the man of science that he is. To the same
effect is the striking declaration of that other great leader of scien-

SCIENCE AND RELIGION AS ALLIES. 697

tific thought of to-day. " The great deeds of philosophers," says
Prof. Huxley, " are less the fruit of their intellect than of the direc
tion of that intellect by an eminently religious state of mind."

Consider the characteristics demanded in the successful study of
Nature, and we shall discern the spiritual source whence these physi
cal triumphs come.

One of the first requisites in the inductive method is the hum-
ble-mindedness that will completely submit itself to the evidence of
the facts. " Access to the kingdom of man, which is founded on
the sciences," Bacon aptly says, " resembles that to the kingdom of
heaven, where no admission is conceded except to children."

Another condition of success is the spirit of industry that is un-
swerved by love of ease or idea of labor s dishonor. Another, again,
is the candor that will look on all sides of a case, and listen to every
objection consecration to truth as the primary object. These are the
qualities which men of science set forth as the requisites for walking
within the veil of the temple of Nature.

But what else are these than the very graces of Christianity ?
Take the childlike mind that the founder of the inductive method
demands : it is just what Christ enjoins. Take the fearless love of
truth that seeks the absolute facts the cause behind the cause. How
long would it hold on its way did not spiritual aspiration ever feed
its secret springs with the insatiable hunger after perfection ? Take
that diligence in labor and honorable estimation of work which is
one of the essential instruments of scientific work, and ask what is
the impulse that has endowed modern Christendom with it. " Labor,"
as a German writer of weight has well pointed out, " was considered
by our heathen forefathers a dishonor ; and even in the present day,
where the gospel is not preached, the stirring disposition, the as
siduity, the spirit of enterprise in the people, is disproportionately
less. The duty and dignity of work is one of the priceless gifts to
modern science of him who said, My Father is working up to this
time, and I work. "

Or consider that interest in Nature that is such a powerful spring
of physical inquiry. Consider that sacred claim of his vocation
which the true servant recognizes such a sense of it as leads a
Lyonnet to spend his life counting the 40,000 muscles in a caterpil
lar s body ! Is it not the Christian spirit, the belief, that is, in the
brotherhood of man and the duty of self-sacrifice the feeling of
filial loyalty to a Divine Father, all of whose works are significant,
and all of whose service is noble that, as much as or more than any
thing else, has given birth to it ?

It is a singular fact that the Greek and the Roman, in spite of their
great intellectual acuteness, accomplished so little in the penetration
of Nature s secrets. With the strong love of the beautiful that dis
tinguished the one, and the profound sense of law that marked the

698 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

other, one would have supposed that they would have felt more the
charm and loveliness of the outward world, and have taken a greater
interest in discovering its unchangeable ordinances. Is it unreason
able to refer much of this to that difference of religion which consti
tutes the most striking distinction between the classic and the Chris
tian world ? In the first place, the selfish isolation, the jealous indi
vidualism of ancient life, gave no encouragement to that sense of
common interests among all mankind which is the justification of
the scientist s pecuniarily unprofitable labors. Among the Greeks,
while the feeling of devotion to the state, or rather city, was in
tense, the sentiment of the general welfare or the cause of humanity
hardly existed. It was only with the advent of Christianity that the
idea of mankind as one great family, each one of whom must labor
for all the rest, came in. This idea has been the nurse, not only of
modern civil freedom, but of modern science. " Not till the word
barbarian was struck out of the dictionary of mankind," says Max
Mtiller, in his "Lectures on the Science of Language," "not till the
right of all nations of the world to be classed as members of one
genus or kind was recognized, can we look even for the first begin
ning of our science. This change was effected by Christianity."

The grand thought that accompanied this sense of human broth
erhood, forming the other pole of gospel truth, viz., the belief in one
God and Father of men, gave an equal contribution toward supplying
the intellectual soil needed for the prosperous growth of science.
With the multitude of national and local gods, and even tribal or
family divinities, which prevailed in the classic world, the minds of
men were constantly diverted from that unity that is the scarlet
thread in every royal cable of science. But monotheism, establishing
unity in the divine realm, gave unity also to the order of Nature.
While surrounding nations looked upon Nature in dread, and in blind
superstition sacrificed their own little ones to the meteor or the vol
cano, the Hebrew, tracing all things up to the power of the eternal 1
am, beside whom there is no other god, found in all the forces and
marvels of Nature fountains of good cheer and grateful praise. The
earth was " the Lord s and the fullness thereof." " Dragons and all
deeps, fire and hail, snow and vapor, stormy wind, fulfilling his word
all these were to praise the name of the Lord. For he commanded
and they were created. He hath also established them forever and
ever; he hath made a decree which shall not be moved" (Psalm
cxlviii.). Christianity took up and diffused this grand view of the
relation of Nature to God and to man. Though the appreciation of
Nature s beauty, order, and dignity, was swamped for a time by the
tide of Oriental asceticism, Grecian metaphysics, and transformed
polytheism, it rose gradually above it, and established itself firmly
in the mind of Christendom. It is this new interest in all the aspects,
changes, and laws of the material, vegetable, and animal realms, full as

SCIENCE AND RELIGION AS ALLIES. 699

much as the propounding of the Baconian method, that has so adorned
physical knowledge in these latter days ; and when we consider what
gave this new attraction to Nature, and shed over it a divine light, as
it were, we can find no other agency so conspicuous, so powerful, as
that of the two great religious dispensations, the record of which lias
been preserved for us in the Old and New Testaments. One whose
name is among the very first on the rolls of science has given strong
and explicit testimony on this point. Alexander von Humboldt, in a
striking passage of his " Cosmos," sketching the intellectual phenom
ena of this world, thus describes the state of the Hebrew mind as
distinguished from that exhibited among other portions of the human
family: "It is characteristic of the poetry of the Hebrews that, as a
reflex of monotheism, it always embraces the universe in its unity,
comprising both terrestrial life and the luminous realms of space.
The Hebrew poet does not depict Nature as a self-dependent object,
glorious in its individual beauty, but always as in relation and sub
jection to a higher spiritual power. Nature is to him a work of
creation and order the living expression of the omnipresence of the
Divinity in the visible world. Hence the lyrical poetry of the He
brews, from the very nature of its subject, is grand and solemn, . . .
and develops a rich and animated conception of the life of Nature.
It might almost be said that one single psalm represents the image
of the whole cosmos. We are astonished to find in a lyric poem
of such limited compass the whole universe. . . . Similar views of
the cosmos occur repeatedly in the Psalms, and most fully, per
haps, in the ancient if not ante-Mosaic book of Job."

Thus did religious reverence among the Hebrews lead to the
notice and study of Nature. And, as to its influence on modern cult
ure, let us listen again to the great philosopher of Berlin : " When
the feelings died away," he continues, " which had animated classical
antiquity and directed the minds of men rather to a visible manifes
tation of human antiquity than to a passive contemplation of the
external world, a new spirit arose. Christianity gradually diffused
itself, and, wherever it was adopted as the religion of the state, it not
only exercised a beneficial condition en the lower classes by incul
cating the social freedom of mankind, but also expanded the views of
men in their communion with Nature. The eye no longer rested on
the form of the Olympic gods. The Fathers of the Church, in their
rhetorically correct and often practically imaginative language, now
taught that the Creator showed himself great in inanimate Nature no
less than in animated Nature; and in the wild strife of the elements
no less than in the still activity of organic development. It was thus
the tendency of the Christian mind to prove from the order of the
universe and the beauty of Nature the greatness and goodness of the
Creator, and this tendency to glorify the Deity in his works gave rise
to a taste for natural observation"

7 oo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

He who would assign, then, the sources of the modern scientific
spirit cannot, without injustice, fail to assign a large measure of in
fluence to Christianity.

Besides this general assistance to science from the religious spirit,
the Christian Church, as an organization, although guilty of much
hinderance, nevertheless has given much help. I believe, indeed, that
in an impartial comparison the assistance which it has supplied would
outweigh the injury which it has done. There was a time in the his
tory of Europe we should not forget when the fruit of all past
knowledge and the seeds of future culture and enlightenment lay in
the hands of the Christian clergy. For six centuries during the
deluge of barbarism and ignorance which had submerged the ancient
world, the Christian Church was the ark which rode upon the flood,
bearing in its bosom whatever was most precious of the old-time
learning and knowledge. Amid the devastations which attended the
repeated waves of barbarian invasion, the greater part of Italy and
France had become desolate and waste, dense with tangled forests,
and haunted by wild beasts ; and the arts of agriculture were not
merely disused, but almost forgotten. By whom were these tracts
and arts in Western Europe recovered for civilization ? Mainly by
the monks and priests. It is calculated that three-eighths of the
cities and towns of France were born under the pioneership and pro
tection of the monastic orders. The Benedictines, Mrs. Jameson
says, were the first agriculturists who brought intellectual resources
to bear on the cultivation of the soil, to whom we owe experimental
farming and gardening, and the introduction of a variety of new
plants.

Again, in the disorders occasioned by the fall of the Roman Em
pire, the imperial schools formerly scattered over Western Europe
were extinguished, for an almost universal loss or destruction of
books had occurred. It was only in the cloister and in the schools
attached to the monasteries, established primarily for the study of
the Scriptures, and conducted by the monks, that the light of knowl
edge was kept alive in Western Europe. The great universities of
Europe, such as those of Paris, Bologna, Oxford, and Cambridge, are
generally admitted to have had their origin in the schools attached to
cathedrals and monasteries. Almost every one of the ancient and
eminent seats of learning was either founded by the clergy or
originally instituted for the purpose of fostering the study of the
Scriptures.

Of course, the studies which occupied the first place were the
Bible, the works of the Fathers, and theology in its various branches.
But- they were not limited to these. Science and art received atten
tion, as well as sacred literature. Physics, chemistry, botany, medi
cine, law, painting, and the art of illumination, were all pursued with
in the walls of the cloister. A Benedictine monk, Guido d Arezzo,

SCIENCE AND RELIGION AS ALLIES. 701

was the inventor of the gamut, and the first who instituted a school
of music. The monks, it is claimed by high authorities, " were the
parents of Gothic architecture, the inventors or improvers of the im
plements used in painting, the discoverers and preparers of some of
the finest colors." " As architects, as glass-painters, as mosaic-work
ers, they were," says Mrs. Jameson, "the precursors of all that has
yet been achieved in Christian art." Many of the distinguished
pioneers of science belonged to the Church, or were educated in it.
Among the alchemists, the forerunners of our chemists, Roger Bacon,
Thomas Aquinas, Albertus Magnus, Raymond Lully, were ecclesias
tics. Giordano Bruno in his early life was a Dominican priest ; Gas-
sendi and Copernicus held church offices, the former that of Professor
of Theology, and afterward prevot of a cathedral, and the latter a
canonry and archdeaconship, and both remained faithful churchmen
throughout their lives. Kepler was educated at the school of the
monastery of Maulbron, and Boerhaave studied at Leyden for the
sacred profession. This list, which a little research would easily en
large, shows that, if there was a current in the Church antagonistic
to scientific investigations, there was also a current that sympathized
with it and impelled it onward.

Thus have science and religion given to each other assistance
which more than balances, it seems to me, whatever hinderances they
have put in each other s way. This assistance, to be sure, has been
imperfect, has been more or less unconscious, and sometimes, perhaps,
in despite of what has been intended. In the present controversy, as
to the proper relations between science and religion, does not this
page of history give useful instruction ? Not to render them oppo
nents, or maintain conflict between them by raking over the ashes of
controversy; not to patch up a temporary truce by schemes for
dividing the field of knowledge between them, but to continue and
perfect between them this alliance of the past, making it henceforth
a conscious, entire, and welcomed cooperation is not this the duty
of the present and the future? Since neither science nor religion
can claim an exclusive sovereignty over the field of knowledge ; since
that domain cannot well be partitioned off between them, the true
way is to unite them in a perpetual alliance. Take the testimony of
both religion and science. Presume that there is a certain proportion
of truth in what each has to offer. Weigh in the scales of reason
what each presents. Accept that which is most solid, from which
ever side it comes ; or if neither, which is likely, presents the whole
and real fact, employ the parallax of the two to give the actual posi
tion and full form of the two.

Each should seek from the other correction of its errors and fill
ing out of its imperfections. Religion ought to obtain, from wider
knowledge, greater purity and enlargement. She ought to learn
from physical discovery the importance of going at once to facts and

7 02 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

thoroughly studying them, instead of sitting in her study patching
dogmas out of scriptural shreds. She should learn from science the
method of studying facts, as well as its importance, how to criticise, to
sift, to throw away the chaff and keep only the solid grain. And, hav
ing mastered the secret of modern knowledge, she should proceed to
put theology upon a solid inductive basis, and build it up into the
genuine science of which it is capable.

And similarly science ought to obtain the help of religion to
elevate and perfect it. From the ideal aspirations of faith science
should enlighten its vision and ennoble its aims. It should not re
strict its studies merely to the lower realm of facts. Science fails to
fulfill its appointed mission in the world if it ceases its researches on
the threshold of the grandest discoveries open to it, the questions
above all in interest to humanity. It should learn from theology to
study the laws of mind and soul as well as those of matter ; to recog
nize that the fundamental truths of morality and religion are self-evi
dent, as well as those of geometry, and that the belief in a God and
in a future state is as primitive, universal, and necessary, as the belief
in the uniformity of Nature or the indestructibility of force. It
should look at the upraised finger of Faith and be pointed from the
law to the Law-giver ; from the effect to a cause ; from the force to
the living well.

To widen, purify, and make stable; to save from the building of
unsubstantial air-castles, and from blind clasping of objects unworthy
of worship this is what science should do for religion.

To inspire and enable and crown ; to turn from peering and pick
ing altogether in the dust ; to look up to the heavens this is what re
ligion should do for science. Playing no hostile nor rival, nor even in
dependent strains but each in sweet concord and divine respondence,
joining in the same holy anthem thus knowledge and reverence,
mind and soul, all " according well, may make one music as before,
but vaster."

NATURE OF THE INVERTEBRATE BRAIN.

BY PROF. H. CHARLTON BASTIAN.

I.

3THING distinctly answering to a brain is to be found in the
lowest animals in which a nervous system exists. It is thus, for
instance, with star-fishes and the larger nematoid entozoa, in which
what most nearly resembles a brain consists of a mere band of nerve-
fibres surrounding the commencement of the oesophagus, and containing
a few nerve-cells, partly between its fibres and partly in groups slightly
removed therefrom.

NATURE OF THE INVERTEBRATE BRAIN. 703

The absence of distinct ganglia in the neighborhood of the mouth
in star-fishes is doubtless due, in the main, to the form of these ani
mals, and their low type of organization. Each arm or ray presents
its own nervous system, and the ring or band round the mouth seems
to be little more than a commissure connecting these otherwise dis
tinct parts of the common system.

In the larger parasitic nematoids the nervous system is more con
centrated. The cesophageal ring and immediately adjacent parts
constitute almost all that is known of the nervous system in these
organisms, and it contains, or is in relation with, a larger number of
ganglion-cells than the similar part in star-fishes. Thus, in addition
to the cells intermixed with the fibres of the ring itself, there are five
or six groups adjacent to and in connection with it, which receive
fibres from certain large papillas surrounding the mouth and having
a rudimentary tactile function. These papillae are, in all probability,
the nematoids principal sensory organs. By means of the connect
ing nerve-fibres and ganglion-cells they are brought into relation with
the nervous ring, and from this other outgoing fibres are, doubtless,
given off to the four great longitudinal muscular bands by which, the
movements of the animal are effected. The distribution of these
latter or motor nerve-fibres, however, has not been distinctly traced.
The absence of ganglionic swellings on, or in connection with, the
cesophageal ring of nematoids is probably dependent upon the com
parative simplicity and limited number of impressions capable of
being received through these cephalic papilla.

We turn now to the nervous system, and to those parts of it, more
especially, which answer to the brain of higher animals as it occurs
in the three sub-kingdoms of the JTnvertebrata, containing its higher
types of life. These sub-kingdoms are VEEMES, AETHKOPODA, and

MOLLTJSCA.

Among representatives of the sub-kingdom Vermes, the ner
vous system varies a good deal in minor details, in accordance with
the degree of organization, and with the diversity of the sensory and
locomotor endowments of the several organisms.^ The broad features
of the nervous system, however, are very similar in all.

The JVemertidce, a class of marine worms, possess a nervous sys
tem of very simple type. They have soft and highly-contractile
bodies, covered with cilia, but are otherwise wholly devoid of exter
nal appendages or traces of segmentation. On the anterior extrem
ity of the body, a little posterior to the mouth, two, four, or more
specks of pigment are met with, which are conjectured to serve the
purpose of rudimentary ocelli, and while the animal is moving from
place to place this anterior part of its body doubtless acts as its prin
cipal tactile surface. Nerve-fibres proceed from these regions, arid
converge so as to form three or four nerve-trunks on each side, which
enter a comparatively large ganglionic mass lying on the lateral aspect

704

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the sheath of the proboscis. Each ganglion is pyriform in shape,
and connected with its fellow by means of two commissures, one of
which passes over, and the other underneath, the proboscis. It is diffi
cult to trace the ultimate distribution of the nerve-fibres in these creat
ures ; so that, although fibres can be followed nearly up to the pigment-
spots, none have been detected in immediate continuity with them.

FIG. 1. HEAD AND BKAIN or NEMERTES.

The inferior commissure between the two ganglionic masses is shorter
and broader than the upper, and, while it serves in part to bring the
two ganglia into communication, it is also partly composed of com-
missural fibres, uniting the two great lateral nerve-trunks. These
start from the ganglia, and, proceeding along the sides of the body,
give off numerous branches to the longitudinal and circular muscles
between which they are situated.

The pyriform ganglia are mostly of a pink or reddish color, and
they are crowded with small nerve-cells. They represent the brain as
it exists in these animals, and we have here, perhaps, a type of the
simplest form which this organ could assume among active creatures
possessing a distinct bilateral symmetry. Tactile and possibly gus
tatory impressions, together with impressions produced by light or
darkness, doubtless come from the anterior extremity of the organism
to the pyriform ganglia on either side, and are thence reflected along
correlated channels in the great efferent bundles, proceeding to the
muscles on one or both sides of the body, and also to the muscular
proboscis. Other departments of the nervous system may exist in
these animals, though as yet none have been detected.

In the common earthworm the nervous system is somewhat dif
ferently developed. The lateral ganglia of the Nemertidce are re
placed by two upper ganglia, connected by lateral commissures with

NATURE OF THE INVERTEBRATE BRAIN. 705

a single lower ganglion ; and, as a consequence of the coalescence of
the two lower halves, we have, instead of the two lateral cords of
the Nemertidce, a double ventral nervous cord traversing the whole
length of the body. There are no distinct ocelli in the earthworm.
The body is composed of a multitude of ring-like segments, each of
which is provided with lateral setae, which are called into play during
-the subterranean locomotions of the animal.

The double ventral cord has a fibrous structure along its upper
surface, while below there is an irregular stratum of ganglion-cells.
These cells are more abundant about the centre of each body-seg
ment, and their aggregation gives rise to a series of rudimentary
ganglia in these situations. From every one of the ganglionic swell
ings two nerves are given off on each side, while a third pair of
nerves issues from the cord itself just anterior to the swelling, and is
distributed along the anterior boundaries of the segment.

The cesophageal ganglia in the earthworm are, proportionately to
the rest of the nervous system, much smaller than in the Nemertidce ;
and this is perhaps due in great part to the existence of the numer
ous segmental ganglia in the former, which have no existence in the
marine worms. The movements of the Nemertidw, like those of the
nematoids, are probably much more exclusively under the control of
the cesophageal ganglia than are those of the segmented earthworm
in which each of the body-ganglia doubtless has much to do with
bringing about the contraction of contiguous muscles. The earth
worm has also a more complex visceral structure than is to be met
with among the Nemertidas ; and, moreover, it presents more dis
tinct evidences of a nervous interconnection between the different
organs of the body and some of the principal nerve-centres. Lock-
hart Clarke has described a complicated ganglionic network on each
side of the oesophagus, starting from the commissures and sending
prolongations to the intestine and other parts. By means of this
principal visceral system of nerves, the internal organs are brought
into relation with one another, and with the nervous system of ani
mal life that is, with those parts having to do more especially with
the relation of the organism to its medium.

The upper or supra-cesophageal ganglia, representing the brain of
the earthworm, receive a nerve-trunk on each side, composed of fibres
coming from the tactile upper lip, and, as no sensory filaments of a
different order are known to be immediately connected therewith, the
functions of the brain in this animal must be comparatively simple.
This upper lip contains a certain amount of diffused pigment, though
there are no signs of the existence of distinct ocelli. I have spoken
of the part as a special organ of touch, but it is equally probable that
it may be capable of receiving more special impressions representing
rudimentary tastes. The separation between these modes of sensi
bility may in such low organisms be somewhat indefinite.
VOL. ix. 45

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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

In the leech we meet with some variations in the arrangement of
the nervous system, of a kind analogous to changes subsequently to
be spoken of as occurring in higher forms of life. The nervous sys
tem becomes more concentrated. There is no longer a ganglion for
each segment, but one for every three or four segments of the animal ;
and the two ventral cords approximate so closely as to be almost
fused into one. In the common medicinal leech, for instance, there is
a bilobed ganglion (a) above the mouth, which receives fibres from
the tactile lips, and also ten distinct filaments from as many pigment-
spots (b b) or ocelli, situated round the margin of this upper lip.

- "

m

FIG. 2. NERVOUS SYSTEM OP THE MEDICINAL LEECH.

From this bilobed ganglion, which corresponds with the brain proper
of higher animals, a cord descends on each side of the oesophagus,
and the two unite in a heart-shaped supra-oesophageal ganglion (c),
from which afferent nerves are given off to the muscles whose busi
ness it is to move its three saw-like jaws, as well as to the muscles of
the oral sucker. This lower ganglion in part corresponds with the
" medulla oblongata " of vertebrate animals. It is continuous with
the double ventral cord, on which twenty equidistant rhomboidal
ganglia are developed. Each of these ganglia gives off two nerves

NATURE OF THE INVERTEBRATE BRAIN. 707

on either side, whose branches are distributed to the muscles and
parietes of adjacent segments.

In this animal also a simple filament is given off from the poste
rior part of the supra-cesophageal ganglion, and is distributed along
the dorsal aspect of the alimentary canal. It foreshadows an impor
tant system of nerves corresponding partly with that of the " sympa
thetic," and partly with the pneumogastric (or lung and stomach)
nerves in higher animals. This system is known among invertebrates
as the " stomato-gastric system." In other members of the inverte
brate series it frequently takes its origin from the commissures con
necting the upper and lower ganglia, rather than from the upper gan
glion itself. The more complicated stomato-gastric system of the
earthworm has an origin of this kind.

The kind of nervous system which pertains to the earthworm and
to the leech exists, with only comparatively trivial variations, through
out the whole sub-kingdom Vermes.

The next sub-kingdom the Arthropoda comprises centipedes,
crabs, spiders, and insects. They are all characterized by the pos
session of hollow and jointed organs of locomotion, containing dis
tinct muscles, these appendages being represented among Vermes
only by lateral setae or bristles of different kinds. The lowest types
of these various classes possess a nervous system closely analogous to
that existing among the various kinds of worms. In the more com
plex types of crabs, spiders, and insects, however, we meet with a
great increase in the complexity of animal organization, and this in
crease of complexity is shared in by the nervous system. Among
insects, for instance, the respiratory organs assume a marvelous de
gree of elaboration, and the development of this system, together
with a correlated development of their nervous and muscular sys
tems, contributes greatly to the enormous powers of locomotion for
which these denizens of the air are remarkable. The acuteness and
structural elaboration of their sense-organs is almost sure to be greatly
increased in such active creatures ; and, looking to the nature of the
intelligence in these lower animals, there is thus afforded an increas
ing stimulus to brain-development and slightly higher brain-functions.

Among the lower centipedes, such as lulus and Geophihis, in which
the limbs, though very numerous, are feeble and ill-developed, the
nervous system exhibits only a slight advance over the forms which it
presents among the higher Annelida (Fig. 3). But in the more pow
erful predatory forms, of which the common centipede may be taken
as a type, a distinct advance is met with. This carnivorous animal
has a smaller number of well-developed limbs, and its nervous system
closely resembles that found among caterpillars or the larvae of higher
insects.

The supra-cesophageal ganglia receive nerves from the two pairs

708

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of antennae, and from the groups of ocelli on each side of the head,
and they are connected by cesophageal cords with a bilobed infra-
cesophageal ganglion, which distributes nerves to the jaws and other
parts about the mouth. This bilobed infra-oesophageal ganglion is
the first and largest of a series of ventral ganglia, numbering twenty-
two in all, which are connected together by a double ventral cord.
Every ganglion sends off nerves on each side to a pair of limbs.

FIG. 3. BRAIN AND ADJACENT PARTS op NERVOUS SYSTEM or IULTJS.

From the posterior part of the brain, or from the O3sophageal
cords, the stomato-gastric nerves are given off, and distribute them
selves over the alimentary canal in the usual manner.

Organs of vision become much more elaborate in crabs, spiders,
and insects, than among worms or centipedes. And, while organs of
touch and taste are further perfected in these higher arthropods, two
new sensory endowments also become manifest. These organisms, or
at least all the higher forms of them, are capable of being impressed
by and of discriminating the different odors of some substances ante
rior to the contact of such substances with their gustatory surfaces.
This new power aids them in their search for or recognition of food.
Such organisms are, in addition, capable of appreciating those vibra
tions of the medium they inhabit, which induce in us impressions
recognized as sounds or noises. In other words, they acquire a rudi
mentary power of hearing.

These additional sensory endowments are of high importance to
all organisms, but more especially to those possessing active powers
of locomotion serving, as they do on the one hand, to help to bring
their possessors into relation with food, and, on the other, to warn
them of the approach of enemies, of friends, or of sexual mates.

Among Crustacea great differences are met with in the degree of
concentration of the nervous system, the variations being in the main
dependent upon differences of external form in the respective mem
bers of the class. In some of the lower terms of the series allied to

NATURE OF THE INVERTEBRATE BRAIN. 709

wood-lice (such as talitrus and oniscus), in which the body is elon
gated and composed of many almost similar segments, the nervous
system is not very different from that of the more highly-organized
worms.

In slightly higher forms of Crustacea, however, the two divisions
of the originally double ventral cord approximate and become fused to
gether, while, at the same time, the equality of its ganglia diminishes.
Thus, in such forms as the lobster and the crayfish, the ganglia of the
thorax which supply nerves to the limbs are distinctly larger than
those of the abdominal segments, though these are also of good size,
since the tail-segments are actively called into play during locomotion.

In the prawn a further development and concentration of the
nervous system is seen. The thoracic ganglia are fused into a single
elliptical mass, though those of the abdominal segments still remain
separate.

But in the ordinary edible crab and its allies (Fig. 4), a still more
remarkable concentration of the nervous system is met with. All the
thoracic and all the abdominal ganglia are here fused into one large
perforated mass of nervous matter (c), situated near the middle of the
ventral region of the body. 1 From this large compound ganglionic
mass nerves are given off to the limbs, to the abortive tail, and to
other parts.

The brain of the crab (a) is represented by a rather small bilobed
ganglion. It receives nerves from the pedunculated compound eyes,
from the two pairs of antennae, and from the palpi-bearing mandibles.
The posterior antennae (or antennules, as they are sometimes termed)
contain in their basal joint a body which is supposed to represent an
olfactory organ, though other s have regarded it (on very insufficient
grounds) as an organ of hearing. The rather small bilobed brain is,
indeed, regarded by many naturalists as essentially composed of three
pairs of ganglia, completely fused into one another, but in relation
with the three pairs of sensory organs the eyes, the tactile antennae,
and the supposed olfactory antennules. It is connected, by means of
a long cord (, &), on each side of the oesophagus, with the anterior
extremity of the great ventral ganglion. These cords are long be
cause of the absence of any separate sub-cesophageal ganglia, and
because of the comparative distance of the great ventral nervous
mass into the composition of which these ganglia enter. The great
length of the cesophageal cords is one of the most notable character
istics of the nervous system of the higher Crustacea.

The " stomato-gastric " system of Crustacea is closely similar to
that which exists in centipedes. One part of it is given off from the
cesophageal cord on each side, while another median branch proceeds
from the posterior part of the united cephalic ganglia, as in lulus
!,/).

1 An artery passes through the perforation in this ganglion.

7io

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,

Among Arachnida forms of the nervous system exist which agree
in many respects with those belonging to members of the class last
described these resemblances being in the main associated with cer
tain general similarities of external form or configuration of body.
Thus in scorpions the arrangement of the nervous system is not very
dissimilar from that belonging to the prawn and its allies, since the
thoracic ganglia have coalesced with one another and with the ante
rior abdominal ganglia, so as to form a large stellate nervous mass,
which supplies the limbs and the anterior part of the abdomen. The
ventral cord throughout the remainder of the abdomen and its caudal
prolongation is marked at intervals by a series of small gang] ionic
swellings.

In spiders proper the nervous system attains its maximum of con
centration. In addition to the abdominal and thoracic ganglia having
all fused into one another and with the sub-oesophageal ganglion, we

6

FIG. 4. NERVOUS SYSTEM OF A
CRAB (PiMnurus).

Fio. 5. HEAD AND NERVOUS SYSTEM OP A SPIDER
(Mygale).

find the large mass thus composed (Fig. 5, s) brought into extremely
close relation with the cerebral ganglia or brain (c). They are con
nected by means of two stout commissures, one on each side of the
very narrow oesophagus, whose small size is attributable to the sucto
rial habits of these carnivorous and predatory creatures. The cap
tured fly is not eaten, its juices are sucked by the fierce spider by
whom its life has been taken. t

The bilobed brain of the spider receives nerves on each side (o),
corresponding in number with the ocelli which the animal may pos
sess. It also receives two large nerves (m) from the so-called mandi
bles, which are organs presumably developed from modified antennae.
These large nerves probably contain outgoing as well as ingoing fibres.

NATURE OF THE INVERTEBRATE BRAIN. 711

The sub-oesophageal ganglia correspond in the main, as we have
already stated, with the medulla oblongata of vertebrate animals,
and their fusion with the thoracic ganglia in the Arachnida, as well
as in the Crustacea and Myriapoda, confirms the view held by some
anatomists, that the medulla should be regarded as a prolongation of
the spinal cord, rather than as an integral part of the brain.

FIG. 6. NERVOUS SYSTEM of AN INSECT (Acrida viridissima).

The nervous system of insects varies not only among different
classes arid orders, but even in the same individual, in different stages
of its development. The larva, or caterpillar, of a butterfly, for in
stance, presents a nervous system not very different from that met
with in the centipede; while in the imago stage, or perfected insect,
the same system has undergone some remarkable changes, leading to

7 i2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

increased size of the cerebral ganglia, and also to further development
of some of the ganglia pertaining to the ventral cord, with concentra
tion or even suppression of others.

In such insects as butterflies, bees, and dragon-flies, in which the
visual organs are enormously developed, and in which the power of
vigorous and sustained flight is correspondingly increased, the nervous
system attains its maximum of development among the Arthropoda.
The brain of these creatures differs from that existing in all other
members of the class by reason of the great development of those
portions of it in relation with the visual organs. A ganglionic swell
ing is frequently found where the nerve joins the brain (Fig. Q,J2,) and
in some insects there are also small ganglionic swellings at the cor
responding parts of the antennal nerves.

As in spiders, the oesophageal ring is very narrow, owing to the
greatly-diminished size of the oesophagus in the imago forms of higher
insects. The double upper or cerebral ganglion is, however, con
nected in all insects with a separa-te sub-cesophageal ganglion, from
which nerves are given off to the mandibles, the maxilla?, and the
labium, though in spiders, crustaceans, and myriapods, as I have before
stated, this part has no existence separate from the thoracic ganglia.

In insects the three thoracic ganglia also often preserve a separate
existence (Fig. 6), though in such higher types as I have named above

FIG. 7. BRAIN AND ADJACENT PARTS OF NEBVOTTS SYSTEM OF THE PRIVET MOTH IN THE

PUPA STATE.

these ganglia are more frequently fused into a single, lobed mass.
The eight abdominal ganglia, which are always much smaller than
the thoracic, continue to have a separate existence among some of the
less developed types of insects, though it is more frequent for some,
or even all, of them to disappear.

The stomato-gastric system also attains considerable complexity

MODERN SCIENTIFIC GEOGRAPHY. 713

in these animals. It is often connected anteriorly with a median
frontal ganglion (Fig. 7, E), lying anterior to and below the brain,
which supplies branches to the mouth and adjacent parts. This oral
or frontal ganglion, besides being connected with the brain, also gives
origin to a median recurrent nerve (e). This nerve is connected with
other branches, proceeding from one or two pairs of lateral ganglia (c),
near to, and taking origin from, the cesophageal cords. The system
of nerves thus derived furnishes branches to the stomach, the intes
tines, and other viscera. In addition, we meet in insects with another
well-developed set of visceral nerves, taking origin from a chain of
minute ganglia, which lie upon and are connected with the large
ventral ganglionated cord. These nerves are distributed to the ex
tensive and greatly multiplied air-tubes, or respiratory organs. They
are known to anatomists as " nervi transversi," and are much more
developed in insects than are its representatives among any other
class of arthropods.

M.ODEEN SCIENTIFIC GEOGKAPHY. 1

BY Da. HEKMANN J. KLEIN.

A MONG the various branches of natural science which have in re-
1\ cent times attained a high development, geography holds a prom
inent rank. By this, however, we must understand, not so much that
vast regions of previously unexplored country have been made known
to the educated world ; that rivers, seas, and mountains, have been dis
covered, and the courses of known streams more accurately defined in
maps ; but rather that geotectonic 3 data, of which a rich store has been
collected, have been studied from broad and general points of view,
and the individual phenomena ranged in the order of cause and effect.
In earlier times geography was simply a catalogue of facts, and the
earth s surface an ultimate datum ; but nowadays we are beginning
to regard the superficies of our planet as a result, to investigate the
relations between its separate parts, and to note the changes which
occur in it. In the words of Karl Hitter : " Scientific geography by
no means regards our planet as a lifeless, dead aggregate of an unor
ganized nature, or, as Herodotus expresses it, a disk turned on a lathe ;
but as a truly and specially organized body in steady process of
development, bearing within itself the life-germs of further evolution.
Herein consists its unity ; and it is in virtue of this, its living princi
ple, that it is a whole, lending itself to an orderly presentation and
development of its great system. Furthermore, it is this which
makes of it a science instructive to the human mind an indispensa-

1 Translated from the German by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.

2 Relating to the earth s structure.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ble portion of the system of the sciences." True, even in this broad
conception, Ritter conveys no adequate idea of what scientific geog
raphy is. His illustrious labors were restricted to a narrower field,
and we may say that he worked only upon a part of the foundations

of the proud edifice which future ages will behold. Still, so far are
we from wishing to discredit the important services rendered by this
great geographer that we are free to confess that he achieved all that

MODERN SCIENTIFIC GEOGRAPHY. 715

was possible in his day. Scientific geography is dependent upon a
number of other sciences, and its progress is conditioned upon the
development of these. No other science is so ill adapted as geogra
phy to advance independently and without external aid. When the
astronomer aims at new applications of the theory of disturbance,
or when the physicist studies the phenomena of polarization ; when
the chemist undertakes to break up combinations of elements, or the
geologist investigates the relations subsisting between different strata,
each of these investigators labors in his own province, almost entirely
without reference to the progress made in other departments of
science. But when, on the contrary, a traveler, like the enterprising
Lieutenant Cameron, traverses broad continental regions over unex
plored paths, the gain to scientific geography from such undertakings
in great measure depends upon the development of astronomy, meteo
rology, geology, etc., inasmuch as it is by the aid of these sciences that
we can discuss the observations that have been made, and turn them
to account for ulterior conclusions. Then, too, we must not overlook
those sciences which have to do with organic Nature and which con
sider from higher points of view the distribution of living beings.
Bearing all this in mind, we can readily perceive how intimate is the
connection between geography and all the natural sciences. Hence
it is that in earlier times the idea of scientific geography could hardly
be entertained. At first geography offered little besides an imper
fectly-arranged mass of descriptions of strange lands and curious
things; next it gradually invaded the domain of statistical facts;
then the relations of the history of man to the earth s configuration
were recognized and elucidated; at last came scientific geography,
which investigates the relations between the structure of the earth
and the sum of all terrestrial phenomena, both organic and inor
ganic. The following instance will show the distinction between
ordinary (descriptive) geography and scientific geography.

No inconsiderable part of the- surface of terra firma consists of des
erts, those vast, dry, and in part sandy regions, the type of which is the
Sahara. The old descriptive geography gives the geographical situa
tion of these wastes, their superficial extent, the number and site of
their oases, the names of the mountain-regions which traverse them,
and perhaps a few observations after the manner of anecdotes upon
the intense heat which prevails in such regions, and the perils of a
journey through the desert.

Scientific geography, on the other hand, regards these deserts as
an integral part of the terrestrial organism, and shows how their oc
currence is not accidental, but a necessary result of the past and pres
ent distribution of land and water, and of the position of the zone of
calms. It exhibits to us the process of forming deserts still active,
inasmuch as there exist centres of sand-radiation. It solves for us
the enigma of the formation of springs in the oases, inasmuch as it

7 i 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rejects as unverified the asserted absolute rainlessness of the deserts,
and in the precipitated meteoric water finds a sufficient supply for
the wells of the low-lying oases. With the aid of meteorology it
shows how one continent tends to reduce another to the condition of a
desert ; and, taking man into the sphere of its observations, it dis
cusses the influence of the soil and the configuration of a region upon
the course of culture-development therein, and even upon the develop
ment of peculiarities of speech. Scientific geography in this way
vivifies the dead superficies of our planet, and gives to the conven
tional lines of a map the power of speaking a language that is under
stood by the educated mind.

The endeavor to meet the requirements of a higher geography is
also to be seen in the better style of our modern maps. Thus, whereas
in former times the seas were represented by blank spaces surround
ing the land, now we have the results of soundings carefully repre
sented, and the lines of equal depths, as they are more or less parallel
to the present contours of the coast, supply to the geographer valuable
data with respect to the formation of the land itself. On looking at
the sketch of the Mediterranean Sea, in which various depths from
fifty to five hundred fathoms are represented, the reader will perceive
far more clearly than he could from the mere contour of the coasts
that, not taking the Black Sea into account, the Mediterranean Sea
proper consists of two great basins, viz., a western basin, extending
from Gibraltar to Cape Bon and the southwestern extremity of Sicily,
and an eastern basin extending thence to the coast of Syria. The
shallow depth between Africa and Sicily, and especially the track of
the hundred-fathom line, shown in our map by a dotted curve, prove
that, at a time not very remote geologically, Africa and Europe were
much nearer to one another than they are now, and that in the still
remoter past the two continents were connected at this point. In
all probability this union existed at a period when as yet the present
southern shore of the eastern Mediterranean basin had not been up
heaved, and the sea covered a portion of what is now the Sahara.
French investigators have supposed that the most recent retreat of
the sea was from the Syrtis Minor ; nay, that even in historic times
the great Algerian Chotts were directly connected with the Mediter
ranean as an arm of that sea. But this hypothesis is negatived by G.
Stache s discovery of a stratum characterized by land and fresh-water
shells, at the base of the Quaternary formations which constitute the
coast of the Gulf of Gabes.

If we take up a geological chart, e. g., the beautiful " General Map
of the Sedimentary Formations of Europe," by H. Habenicht, we find
nothing that contradicts these conclusions. Thus the Eocene forma
tions, which are widely diffused over the northern extremity of Africa,
and especially in Tunis, occur again in the island of Sicily, while the
southern and the southwestern portion of that island show the most

MODERN SCIENTIFIC GEOGRAPHY. 717

recent Tertiary strata. These same strata form the coast of Syrtis
Major, where yet the Mediterranean extends farthest southward, and
where probably was situated the last channel through which water
was supplied to the sea that once covered a portion of the Sahara.
That here gradual upheavals of the land have taken place, each up
heaval succeeded by a protracted season of repose, is shown by the
terraces, the origin of which is so well known to the geologist. Ger
hard Rohlfs found these terraces as he ascended the rising ground
back of Tolmita, the ancient Ptolemais. He observes that these ter
races are separated from one another by levels several miles in width. 1

But if, turning aside from these geological considerations, we again
glance at our map of relative depths, we almost everywhere find that
a tiat coast accompanies a shallow sea ; while, on the other hand, a
mountainous coast implies a sudden and precipitous inclination of the
neighboring sea-bottom. This would more plainly appear if our map
were on a larger scale, and had a greater number of depth-curves for
the purpose of comparison. This fact might be accounted for by
supposing that the comparatively sudden upheaval of the coast-hills
was connected with a considerable depression of the neighboring sea-
bottom, while the slow and periodic sinking of the flatter portions
gave rise to submarine terraces. But, aside from this hypothesis, the
representation of graduated submarine depths has a significance not
to be misunderstood in geological, zoological, and botanical investi
gations.

Turning now from the sea to the land, we find in our best modern
maps a number of figures indicating, as accurately as possible, the
elevations; nay, even the attempt has been made, in the magnificent
atlas of Switzerland, to show the elevations by means of equidistant
curves. The Lehmann method of representing the surface of a coun
try with equidistant level-lines would be, in many respects, of the
highest service for the study of the earth s surface, but as yet it can
be practically employed only in individual cases, partly from the want
of materials, partly also on account of technical difficulties.

Cartography is a powerful aid to scientific geography, inasmuch
as it arranges in true projection a great mass of heterogeneous mate
rials, bringing it before the eye within small space, and thus making
apparent relations which else could hardly be noticed. As for politi
cal geography, viz., the description of the various empires of the
world, their area, provinces, population, etc., this we would regard
rather as a branch of statistics than of geography proper. Gaea.

1 "Von Tripolis nach Alexandrian," 1. Bd., S. 169.

7 i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

PEEDATOEY AND IKDUSTEIAL SOCIETIES. 1

BY HEKBEKT SPENCER.

A GLANCE at the respective antecedents of individual organisms
/i and social organisms shows why the last admit of no such defi
nite classification as the first. Through a thousand generations a spe
cies of plant or animal leads substantially the same kind of life ; and
its successive members inherit the acquired adaptations. When
changed conditions cause divergences of forms once alike, the accumu
lating differences arising in descendants only superficially disguise the
original identity do not prevent the grouping of the several species
into a genus; nor do wider divergences that began earlier prevent
the grouping of genera into orders and orders into classes. It is oth
erwise with societies. Hordes of primitive men, dividing and subdi
viding, do, indeed, show us successions of small social aggregates
leading like lives, inheriting such low structures as had resulted, and
repeating those structures. But higher social aggregates propagate
their respective types in much less decided ways. Though colonies
tend to grow like their parents, yet the parent societies are so com
paratively plastic, and the influences of new habitats on the derived
societies are so great, that divergences of structure are inevitable.
In the absence of definite organizations, established during the simi
lar lives of many societies descending one from another, there cannot
be the precise distinctions implied by complete classification.

Two cardinal kinds of differences there are, however, of which we
may avail ourselves for grouping societies in a natural manner. Pri
marily we may arrange them, according to their degrees of composi
tion, as simple, compound, doubly-compound, trebly-compound ; and,
secondarily, though in a less specific way, we may divide them into
the predominantly predatory and the predominantly industrial those
in which the organization for offense and defense is most largely de
veloped and those in which the sustaining organization is most largely
developed.

We have seen that social evolution begins with small, simple ag
gregates; that it progresses by the clustering of these into larger
aggregates; and that, after consolidating, such clusters are united
with others like themselves into still larger aggregates. Our classi
fication, then, must begin with societies of the first or simplest order.

We cannot in all cases say with precision what constitutes a simple
society; for, in common with products of evolution generally, socie
ties present transitional stages which negative sharp divisions. As
the multiplying members of a group spread and diverge gradually, it

1 Abridged from advance-sheets of the " Principles of Sociology," Part II., " The In
duction of Sociology," Chapter X., "Social Types and Constitutions."

PREDATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SOCIETIES. 719

is not always easy to decide when the groups into which they fall
become distinct. Here the descendants of common ancestors, inhab
iting a barren region, have to divide while yet the constituent fami
lies are near akin ; and there, in a more fertile region, the group may
hold together until clusters of families remotely akin are formed
clusters which, diffusing slowly, are held by a common bond that
slowly weakens. By-and-by comes the complication arising from the
presence of slaves not of the same ancestry, or of an ancestry but dis
tantly "allied ; and these, though they may not be political units, must
be recognized as units sociologically considered. Then there is the
kindred complication arising where an invading tribe becomes a dom
inant class. Our only course is to regard as a simple society one
which forms a single working whole, unsubjected to any other, and of
which the parts cooperate, with or without a regulating centre, for
certain public ends. Here is a table, presenting, with as much definite-
ness as may be, the chief divisions and subdivisions of such simple
societies. 1 . . .

We pass now to the classification based on unlikenesses between
the kinds of social activity which predominate, and on the resulting
unlikenesses of organization. The two social types thus essentially
contrasted are the predatory and the industrial.

It is doubtless true that no definite separation of these can be
made. Excluding a few simple groups, such as the Esquimaux, inhab
iting places where they are safe from invasion, all societies, simple
and compound, are occasionally or habitually in antagonism with
other societies ; and, as we have seen, tend to evolve structures for
carrying on offensive and defensive actions. At the same time sus-
tentation is necessary, and there is always an organization, slight or
decided, for achieving it. But while the two systems in social organ
isms, as in individual organisms, coexist in all but the rudimentary
forms, they vary immensely in the ratios they bear to one another.
In some cases the structures carrying on external actions are largely
developed ; the sustaining system exists solely for their benefit, and
the activities are militant. In other cases there is predominance of
the structures carrying on sustentation ; offensive and defensive
structures are maintained only to protect them ; and the activities
are industrial. At the one extreme we have those warlike tribes
which, subsisting mainly by the chase, make the appliances for deal
ing with enemies serve also for procuring food, and have sustaining
systems represented only by their women, who are their slave-classes ;
while at the other extreme we have the type, as yet only partially
evolved, in which the agricultural, manufacturing, and commercial

1 Three elaborate tables are here given in the text of Spencer s work, classifying the
social aggregates of mankind into "Simple Societies," "Compound Societies," and
" Doubly-Compound Societies." We are compelled to omit them and the accompanying
text for want of space.

7 zo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

organizations form the chief part of the society, and, in the absence of
external enemies, the appliances for oflense and defense are either ru
dimentary or absent. Transitional as are nearly all the societies we
have to study, we may yet clearly distinguish the constitutional traits
of these opposite types, characterized by predominance of the outer
and inner systems respectively.

Having glanced at the two thus placed in contrast, it will be most
convenient to contemplate each by itself.

As before pointed out, the militant type is one in which the army
is the nation mobilized, while the nation is the quiescent army, and
which, therefore, acquires a structure common to army and nation.
We shall most clearly understand its nature by observing in detail this
parallelism between the military organization and the social organiza
tion at large.

Already we have had ample proof that centralized control is the
primary trait acquired by every body of fighting-men, be it horde of
savages, group of brigands, or mass of soldiers. And this centralized
control, necessitated during war, characterizes the government during
peace. Among the uncivilized, there is a marked tendency for the mil
itary chief to become also the political head (the medicine-man being
his only competitor) ; and in a conquering race of savages his political
headship becomes fixed. Among semi-civilized, the conquering com
mander and the despotic king are the same ; and they remain the same
among the civilized down to late times. The connection is well shown
where, in the same race, we find a contrast in the habitual activities
and in the forms of government. Thus the powers of the patriarchal
chiefs of Kaifre tribes are not great ; but the Zulus, who have be
come a conquering division of the Kaffres, are under an absolute mon
arch. Of advanced savages, the Feejeeans may be named as well
showing this relation between habitual war and despotic rule; the
persons and property of subjects are entirely at the king s or chief s
disposal. We have seen that it is the same in the warlike African
states, Dahomey and Ashantee. The ancient Mexicans, again, whose
highest profession was that of arms, and whose eligible prince became
king only by feats in war, had an autocratic government, which, ac
cording to Clavigero, became more stringent as the territory was
enlarged by conquest. Similarly, the unmitigated despotism under
which the Peruvians lived had been established during the spread of
the Inca conquests. And that race is not the cause, we are shown
by this recurrence in ancient America of a relation so familiar in an
cient states of the Old World.

The absoluteness of a commander-in-chief goes along with abso
lute control exercised by his generals over their subordinates, and by
their subordinates over the men under them. All are slaves to those
above, and despots to those below. This structure repeats itself in
the accompanying social arrangements. There are precise gradations

PREDATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SOCIETIES. 721

of rank in the community, and complete submission of each rank to
the ranks above it. We see this in the society already instanced, as
showing, among advanced savages, the development of the militant
type. In Feejee six classes are enumerated, from king down to slaves,
as sharply marked off. Similarly in Madagascar, where despotism hfis
been in late times established by war, there are several grades and
castes. Among the Dahomans, given in so great a degree to blood
shed of all kinds, "the army, or, what is nearly synonymous, the
nation," says Burton, " is divided, both male and female, into two
wings ; " and then, of the various ranks enumerated, all are charac
terized as legally slaves of the king. In Ashantee, too, where his
officers are required to die when the king dies, we have a kindred con
dition. Of old, among the aggressive Persians, grades were strongly
marked. So was it in warlike ancient Mexico. Besides three classes of
nobility, and besides the mercantile classes, there were three agricultu
ral classes down to the serfs all in precise subordination. In Peru, also,
below the Inca there were grades of nobility lords over lords. More
over, according to Garcilasso, in each town the inhabitants were regis
tered in decades under a decurion, five of these under a superior, two
such under a higher one, five of these centurions under a head, two
of these under one who thus ruled a thousand men, and for every ten
thousand there was a governor of Inca race ; the political rule being
thus completely regimental. Till lately, another illustration was fur
nished by Japan. That there were kindred, if less elaborate, struct
ures in ancient militant states of the Old World, scarcely needs
saying ; and that like structures were repeated in medieval times,
when a large nation, like France, had under the monarch several
grades of feudal lords, vassals to those above, and suzerains to those
below, with serfs under the lowest, again shows us that everywhere
the militant type has sharply-marked social gradations, as it has
sharply-marked military gradations.

Corresponding to this natural government, there is a like form of
supernatural government. I do not mean merely that, in the ideal
other-worlds of militant societies, the ranks and powers are conceived
as like those of the real world around, though this also is to be noted ;
but I refer to the militant character of the religion. Ever in antag
onism with other societies, the life is a life of enmity, and the reli
gion a religon of enmity. The duty of blood-revenge, most sacred
of all with the savage, continues to be the dominant duty as the mili
tant type of society evolves. The chief, balked of his vengeance,
dies enjoining his successors to avenge him ; his ghost is propitiated
by fulfillment of his commands; the slaying of his enemies becomes
the highest action ; trophies are brought to his grave in token of ful
fillment ; and, as tradition grows, he becomes the god worshiped with
bloody sacrifices. Everywhere we find evidence. The Feejeeans offer
the bodies of their victims killed in war to the gods before cooking
VOL. ix. 46

7 22 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them. In Dahomey, where the militant type is so far developed that
women are warriors, men are almost daily sacrificed l>y the monarch
to please his dead father; and the ghosts of old kings are invoked for
aid in war by blood sprinkled on their tombs. The war-god of the
Mexicans (originally a conqueror), the most revered of their gods, hud
his idol fed with human flesh ; wars being undertaken to supply him
with victims. And similarly in Peru, where there were habitual hu
man sacrifices, men taken captive were immolated to the father of the
Incas, the sun. How militant societies of old in the East similarly
evolved deities, who were similarly propitiated by bloody rites, needs
merely indicating. Habitually their mythologies represent gods as
conquerors; habitually their gods are named "the strong one, 1
" the destroyer," "the avenger," "god of battles," "lord of hosts,"
"man of war," and so forth. As we read in Assyrian inscriptions,
wars were commenced by their alleged will; and, as we read else
where, peoples were massacred wholesale in professed obedience to
them. How its theological government, like its political government,
is essentially military, we see even in late and qualified forms of the
predatory type ; for, down to the present time, absolute subordina
tion, like tTiat of soldier to commander, is the supreme virtue, and
disobedience the crime for which eternal torture is threatened.

Similarly with the accompanying ecclesiastical organization. Very
generally, where the militant type is highly developed, the political
head and ecclesiastical head are identical the king, chief descendant
of his ancestor, who has become a god, is also chief propitiator of him.
It was so in ancient Peru ; and in Tezcuco and Tlacopan (Mexico)
the high-priest was the king s second son. The Egyptian wall-
paintings show us kings performing sacrifices ; as do also the As
syrian. Babylonian records harmonize with Hebrew traditions in
telling us of priest-kings. In Lydia it was the same; Crci sus was
king and priest. In Sparta, too, the kings, while military chiefs, were
also high-priests; and a trace of the like original relation existed in
Rome. A system of subordination, essentially akin to the military, has
habitually characterized the accompanying priesthoods. The Fcejeeans
have an hereditary priesthood, forming a hierarchy. In Tahiti, where
the high-priest was royal, there were grades of hereditary priests be
longing to each social rank. In ancient Mexico the priesthoods of
different gods had different ranks, and there were throe ranks within
each priesthood ; and in ancient Peru, besides the royal chief priest,
there were priests of the conquering race set over various classes of
inferior priests. A like type of structure, with subjection of rank to
rank, has characterized priesthoods in the ancient and modern bel
ligerent societies of the Old World. The like mode of government
is traceable throughout the sustaining organization also, FO long as
the social type remains predominantly militant. Beginning with
simple societies, in which the slave-class furnishes the warrior-class

PREDATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SOCIETIES. 723

with necessaries of life, we have already seen that, during the subse
quent stages of evolution, the industrial part of the society continues to
be essentially a permanent commissariat, existing solely to supply the
needs of the governmental-military structures, and having left over
for itself only enough for bare maintenance. Hence, the development
o? political regulation over its activities has been in fact the extension
throughout it of that military rule which, as a permanent commis
sariat, it naturally had. An extreme instance is furnished us by the
ancient Peruvians, whose political and industrial governments were
identical whose kinds and quantities of labor, for every class in every
locality, were prescribed by laws enforced by state officers who had
work legally dictated even for their young children, their blind, and
their lame, and who were publicly chastised for idleness; regimental
discipline being applied to industry just as our modern advocate of
strong government would have it now. The late Japanese system,
completely military in origin and nature, similarly permeated in
dustry; great and small things houses, ships, down even to mats
were prescribed in their structures. In the warlike monarchy of
Madagascar, the artisan classes are all in the employ of government,
and no man can change his occupation or locality, under pain of
death. Without multiplication of cases, these typical ones, remind
ing the reader of the extent to which, even in modern fighting states,
industrial activities are officially regulated, will sufficiently show the
principle.

Not industry only, but life at large, is, in militant societies, sub
ject to kindred discipline. Before its recent collapse, the government
of Japan enforced sumptuary laws on each class, mercantile and other,
up to the provincial governors, who must rise, dine, go out, give audi
ence, and retire to rest at prescribed hours; and the native litera
ture specifies regulations of a scarcely credible minuteness. In an
cient Peru, officers "minutely inspected the houses, to see that the
man, as well as his wife, kept the household in proper order, and pre
served a due state of discipline among their children;" and house
holders were rewarded or chastised accordingly. Among the Egyp
tians each person had, at fixed intervals, to report to a local officer his
name, abode, and mode of living. Sparta, too, yields an example of
a society specially organized for offense and defense, in which the
private conduct of citizens, in all its details, was under public control
enforced by spies and censors. Though regulations so stringent have
not characterized the militant type in more recent ages, yet we need
but recall the laws regulating food and dress, the restraints on loco
motion, the prohibitions of some games and dictation of others, to
indicate the parallelism of principle. Even now, where the military
organization has been kept in vigor by military activities, as in
France, we are shown, by the peremptory control of journals and
suppression of meetings, by the regimental uniformity of education,

724 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

by the official administration of the fine arts, the way in which its
characteristic regulating system ramifies everywhere.

And then, lastly, is to be noted the theory concerning the relation
between the state and the individual, with its accompanying senti
ment. This structure, which adapts a society for combined action
against other societies, is associated with the belief that its members
exist for the benefit of the whole, and not the whole for the benefit of
its members. As in an army the liberty of the soldier is denied, and
only his duty as a member of the mass insisted on ; as in a perma
nently encamped army, like the Spartan nation, the laws recognized no
personal interests, but patriotic ones only ; so in the militant type
throughout the claims of the unit are nothing, and the claims of the
aggregate everything. Absolute subjection to authority is the su
preme virtue, and resistance to it a crime. Other offenses maybe
condoned, but disloyalty is an unpardonable offense. If we take the sen
timents of the sanguinary Feejeeans, among whom loyalty is so intense
that a man stands unbound to be knocked on the head, himself saying
that what the king wills must be done ; or those of the Dahomans,
among whom the highest officials are the king s slaves, and on his de
cease his women sacrifice one another that they may all follow him ;
or those of the ancient Peruvians, among whom with a dead Inca,
or great curaca, were buried alive his favorite attendants and wives
that they might go to serve him in the other world ; or those of the
ancient Persians, among whom a father, seeing his innocent son shot
by the king in pure wantonness, " felicitated " the king " on the excel
lence of his archery," and among whom bastinadoed subjects " de
clared themselves delighted because his majesty had condescended
to recollect them" we are sufficiently shown that, in this social
type, the sentiment which prompts the assertion of personal rights,
in opposition to the ruling power, scarcely exists.

Thus the trait characterizing the militant structure throughout is
that its units are coerced into their various combined actions. As
the soldier s will is so suspended that he becomes in everything the
agent of his officer s will, so is the will of the citizen in all transac
tions, private and public, overruled by that of the government. The
cooperation by which the life of the militant society is maintained,
is a compulsory cooperation. The social structure adapted for deal
ing with surrounding hostile societies is under a centralized regu
lating system, to which all the parts are completely subject; just as
in the individual organism the outer organs are completely subject to
the chief nervous centre.

The traits of the industrial type have to be generalized from inad
equate and entangled data. Antagonism, more or less constant with
other societies, having been almost everywhere and always the con
dition of each society, a social structure fitted for offense and defense

PREDATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SOCIETIES. 725

exists in nearly all cases, and disguises the structure which social
sustentation alone otherwise originates. Such conception as may be
formed of it has to be formed from what we find in the few simple soci
eties that have been habitually peaceful, and in the advanced com
pound societies which, though once habitually militant, have become
gradually less so.

Already I have referred to the chiefless Arafuras, living in " peace
and brotherly love with one another," of whom we are told that " they
recognize the rights of property in the fullest sense of the word, with
out there being any authority among them than the decisions of their
elders, according to the customs of their forefathers ; " that is, there
has grown up a recognition of mutual claims and personal rights,
with voluntary submission to a tacitly-elected representative govern
ment, formed of the most experienced. Among the Todas, who
"lead a peaceful, tranquil life," disputes are "settled either by arbi
tration " or by " a council of five." The amiable Bodo and Dhimals,
said to be wholly unmilitary, display an essentially free social form.
They have nothing but powerless head-men, and are without slaves or
servants; but they give mutual assistance in clearing ground and
house-building. There is voluntary exchange of services giving
of equivalents of labor. The Mishmis, again, described as quiet, inof
fensive, not warlike, and only occasionally uniting in self-defense,
have scarcely any political organization. Their village communities,
under merely nominal chiefs, acknowledge no common chief of the
tribe, and the rule is democratic. Crimes are judged by an assembly.

Naturally, few, if any, cases occur in which societies of this type
have evolved into larger societies without passing into the predatory
type ; for, as we have seen, the consolidation of simple aggregates
into a compound aggregate habitually results from war, defensive or
offensive, which, if continued, evolves a centralized authority with
its coercive institutions. The Pueblos, however, industrious and
peaceful agriculturists, who, building their unique villages, or com
pound houses, containing 2,000 people, in such ways as to " wall out
black barbarism," fight only when invaded, show us a democratic
form of government. "The governor and his council are elected
annually by the people." The case of Samoa, tdo, may be named as
showing, to some extent, how, in one of these compound communities,
where the warlike activity is now not considerable, decline in the
rigidity of political control has gone along with some evolution of
the industrial type. Chiefs and minor heads, partly hereditary and
partly elective, are held responsible for the conduct of affairs ; there
are village parliaments and district parliaments. Along with this we
find a considerably-developed sustaining organization separate from
the political masters, who have apprentices, employ journeymen,
and pay wages ; and, when payment for work is inadequate, there are
even strikes, upheld by a tacit trades-unionism.

72 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Passing to more evolved societies, it must be observed, first, that
the distinctive traits of the industrial type do not become marked,
even where the industrial activity is considerable, so long as the in
dustrial government remains identified with the political. In Phoe
nicia, for example, " the foreign wholesale trade seems to have be
longed mostly to the state, the kings, and the nobles. . . . Ezekiel
describes the King of Tyrus as a prudent commercial prince, who finds
out the precious metals in their hidden seats, enriches himself by get
ting them, and increases these riches by further traffic." Clearly, where
the political and military heads have thus themselves become the
heads of the industrial organization, the traits distinctive of it are
prevented from showing themselves. Of ancient societies, to be
named in connection with the relation between industrial activities
and free institutions, Athens will be at once thought of; and, by con
trast with other Greek states, it showed this relation as clearly as can
be expected. Up to the time of Solon, all these communities were
under either oligarchs or despots. The rest of them, in which war
continued to be the honored occupation, while industry was despised,
retained this political type ; but in Athens, where industry was regard
ed with comparative respect, where it was encouraged by Solon, and
where immigrant artisans found a home, there commenced an indus
trial organization, which, gradually growing, distinguished the Athe
nian society from adjacent societies, as it was distinguished from
them by those democratic institutions that simultaneously developed.

Turning to later times, the relation between a social regime pre
dominantly industrial and a less coercive form of rule, is shown us
by the Hanse Towns, by the towns of the Low Countries, out of
which the Dutch Republic rose, and in high degrees by ourselves, by
the United States, and by our colonies. Along with wars less fre
quent, and these carried on at a distance ; and along with an accom
panying growth of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce, beyond
that of Continental states more military in habit there has gone in
England a development of free institutions. As further implying
that the two are related, as cause and consequence, there may be
noted the fact that the regions whence changes toward greater politi
cal liberty have comfc are the leading industrial regions ; and that
rural districts, less characterized by constant trading transactions,
have retained longer the earlier type, with its appropriate sentiments
and ideas. In the form of ecclesiastical government we see parallel
changes. Where the industrial activities and structures evolve, this
branch of the regulating system, no longer, as in the predatory type,
a rigid hierarchy, little by little loses strength, while there grows up
one of a different kind ; sentiments and institutions both relaxing.
Right of private judgment in religious matters gradually establishes
itself along with establishment of political rights. In place of a uni
form belief imperatively enforced, there come multiform beliefs vol-

PREDATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SOCIETIES. 727

untarily accepted; and the eveiMimltiplying bodies espousing these
beliefs, instead of being governed despotically, govern themselves
after a manner more or less representative. Military conformity, co-
ercively maintained, gives place to a varied non-conformity main
tained by willing union.

The industrial organization itself, which thus, as it becomes pre
dominant, affects all the rest, of course shows us in an especial degree
this change of structure. From the primitive predatory condition,
under which the master maintains slaves to work for him, there is a
transition through stages of increasing freedom to a condition like
our own, in which all who work and employ, buy and sell, are entirely
independent ; and in which there is an unchecked power of forming
associations that rule themselves on democratic principles. Combina
tions of workmen, and counter-combinations of employers, no less
than political societies and leagues for carrying on this or that agi
tation, show us the representative mode of government ; which char
acterizes also every joint-stock company for mining, banking, railway-
making, or other commercial enterprise. Further, we see that, as in
the predatory type the military mode of regulation ramifies into all
minor departments of social activity, so here does the industrial
mode of regulation. Multitudinous objects are achieved by spon
taneously-evolved combinations of citizens governed representatively.
The tendency to this kind of organization is so ingrained that, for
every proposed end, the proposed means is a society ruled by an
elected committee headed by an elected chairman philanthropic
associations of multitudinous kinds, literary institutions, libraries,
clubs, bodies for fostering the various sciences and arts, etc., etc.

Along with all which traits there go sentiments and ideas con
cerning the relation between the citizen and the state, opposite to those
accompanying the predatory type. In place of the doctrine that the
duty of obedience to the governing agent is unqualified, there arises
the doctrine that the will of the citizens is supreme, and the governing
agent exists merely to carry out their will. Thus subordinated in
authority, the regulating power is also restricted in range. Instead
of having an authority extending over actions of all kinds, it is shut
out from large classes of actions. Its control over ways of living in
respect to food, clothing, amusements, is repudiated ; it is not allowed
to dictate modes of production, nor to regulate trade. Nor is this
all. It becomes a duty to resist irresponsible government, and also
to resist the excesses of responsible government. There arises a
tendency in minorities to disobey even the legislature deputed by the
majority, when it interferes in certain ways; and their oppositions to
laws they condemn as inequitable from time to time cause abolition
of them. With which changes of political theory and accompanying
sentiment is joined a belief, implied or avowed, that the combined
actions of the social aggregate have for their end to maintain the

72 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

conditions under which individual lives may be satisfactorily carried
on ; in place of the old belief that individual lives have for their end
the maintenance of this aggregate s combined actions.

These pervading traits, in which the industrial type differs so
widely from the predatory type, originate in those relations of indi
viduals implied by industrial activities, which are wholly unlike those
implied by predatory activities. All trading transactions, whether
between masters and workmen, buyers and sellers of commodities, or
professional men and those they aid, are effected by free exchange.
For some benefit which A s occupation enables him to give, B will
ingly yields up an equivalent benefit ; if not in the form of something
he has produced, then in the form of money gained by his occupation.
This relation, in which the mutual rendering of services is unforced
and neither individual subordinated, becomes the predominant rela
tion throughout society, in proportion as the industrial activities pre
dominate. Daily determining the thoughts and sentiments, daily
disciplining all in asserting their own claims, while forcing them to
recognize the correlative claims of others, it produces social units
whose mental structures and habits mould social arrangements into
corresponding forms. There results this type characterized through
out by that same individual freedom which every commercial trans
action implies. The cooperation by which the multiform activities
of the societies are carried on, becomes a voluntary cooperation.
And while the developed sustaining system, which gives to a social
organism the industrial type, acquires for itself, like the developed
sustaining system of an animal, a regulating apparatus of a diffused
or uncentralized kind, it tends also to decentralize the primary regu
lating apparatus, by making it derive from more numerous classes its
deputed powers.

Necessarily the essential traits of these two social types are in
most cases obscured, both by the antecedents and by the coexisting
circumstances. Every society has been, at each past period, and is
at present, conditioned in a way more or less unlike the ways in
which others have been and are conditioned. Hence, the production
of structures, characterizing one or other of these opposed types, is,
in every instance, furthered, or hindered, or modified, in a special
manner. Observe the several kinds of causes.

There is, first, the deeply-organized character of the particular
race, coming down from those prehistoric times during which the
diffusion of mankind, and differentiation of the varieties of man, took
place. Very difficult to change, this must in every case qualify dif
ferently the tendency toward assumption of either type.

There is, next, the effect due to the immediately preceding mode
of life and social type. Nearly always the society we have to study
contains decayed institutions and habits belonging to an ancestral

PREDATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SOCIETIES. 729

society otherwise circumstanced ; and these pervert, more or less, the
effects of circumstances then existing.

Again, there are the peculiarities of the habitat in respect of
contour, soil, climate, flora, fauna, severally affecting in one mode
or other the activities, whether predatory or industrial; and sever
ally hindering or aiding, in some special way, the development of
either type.

Yet further, there are the complications caused by the particular
organizations and practices of surrounding societies. For, supposing
the amount of offensive or defensive action to be the same, the na
ture of it depends in each case on the nature of the antagonist action ;
and hence its reactive effects on structure vary with the character of
the antagonist. Add to this that direct imitation of adjacent socie
ties is a factor of some moment.

There remains to be named an element of complication more po
tent perhaps than any of these one which of itself often goes far to
determine the type as predatory, and which in every case profoundly
modifies the social arrangements. I refer to the mixture of races,
caused by conquest or otherwise. We may properly treat of it sep
arately under the head of social constitution not, of course, consti
tution politically understood, but constitution understood as referring
to the relative homogeneity or heterogeneity of the units constituting
the social aggregate.

Inevitably as the nature of the aggregate, partially determined
by environing conditions, is in other respects determined by the
natures of its units, where its units are of diverse natures, the degrees
of contrast between the two or more kinds of them, and the degrees
of union between them, must greatly affect the results. Are they
of unallied races, or of races near akin ? and do they remain separate,
or do they mix ?

If units of two kinds are joined in the same society, their respec
tive tendencies to evolve structures more or less unlike in character
must modify the product. And the special modification will in every
case further or hinder the evolution of one or the other social type.
Clearly, where it has happened that a conquering race, continuing
to govern a subject race, has developed the predatory regulating
system throughout the whole social structure, and for ages habitu
ated its units to compulsory cooperation where it has also happened
that the correlative ecclesiastical system, w r ith its appropriate cult, has
given to absolute subordination the religious sanction and especially
where, as in China, each individual is moulded by the governing power
and stamped with the appropriate ideas of duty which it is heresy to
question, it becomes impossible for any considerable change to be
wrought in the social structure by other influences. It is the law of
all organization that as it becomes complete it becomes rigid. Only
where incompleteness implies a remaining plasticity is it possible for

73 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the type to develop from the original predatory form to the form
which industrial activity generates.

Especially where the two races, contrasted in their natures, da
not mix, social cooperation implies a compulsory regulating system;
the military form of structure, which the dominant impose, ramifies
throughout. Ancient Peru furnished an extreme case ; and the Otto
man Empire may be instanced. Social constitutions of this kind, in
which aptitudes for forming unlike structures coexist, are manifestly
in states of unstable equilibrium. Any considerable shock dissolves
the organization ; and, in the absence of unity of tendency, reestab-
lishment of it is difficult, if not impossible. In cases where the con
quering and conquered, though widely unlike, intermarry extensively,
a kindred effect is produced in another way. The conflicting tenden
cies toward different social types, instead of existing in separate
individuals, now exist in the same individual. The half-caste, inher
iting from one line of ancestry proclivities adapted to one set of insti
tutions, and from the other line of ancestry proclivities adapted to
another set of institutions, is not fitted for either. He is a unit whose
nature has not been moulded by any social type, and therefore cannot,
with others like himself, evolve any social type. Modern Mexico and
the South American republics, with their perpetual revolutions, show
us the result.

It is observable, too, that, where races of strongly-contrasted na
tures have mixed more or less, or, remaining but little mixed, occupy
adjacent areas subject to the same government, the equilibrium main
tained so long as that government keeps up the coercive form shows
itself to be unstable when the coercion relaxes. Spain, with its di
verse peoples, Basque, Celtic, Gothic, Moorish, Jewish, partially min
gled and partially localized, shows us this result.

Small differences, however, seem advantageous. Sundry instances
point to the conclusion that a society formed from nearly-allied peo
ples, of which the conquering eventually mingles with the conquered,
is relatively well fitted for progress. From their fusion results a com
munity which, determined in its leading traits by the character com
mon to the two, is prevented by their differences of character from
being determined in its minor traits is left capable of taking on new
arrangements determined by new influences : medium plasticity allows
those changes of structure constituting advance in heterogeneity.
One example is furnished us by the Hebrews, who, notwithstanding
their boasted purity of blood, resulted from a mixing of many Semit
ic varieties in the country east of the Nile, and who, both in their
wanderings and after the conquest of Palestine, went on amalgamat
ing kindred tribes. Another is supplied by the Athenians, whose
progress had for antecedent the mingling of numerous immigrants
from other Greek states with the Greeks of the locality. The fusion
by conquest of the Romans with other Aryan tribes, Sabini, Sabelli,

PREDATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SOCIETIES. 731

and Samriites, preceded the first ascending stage of the Roman civ
ilization. And our own country, peopled by different divisions of the
Aryan race, and mainly by varieties of Scandinavians, again illus
trates this effect produced by the mixture of units sufficiently alike to
cooperate in the same social system, but sufficiently unlike to prevent
that social system from becoming forthwith definite in structure.

Admitting that the evidence where so many causes are in opera
tion cannot be satisfactorily disentangled, and claiming only proba
bility for these inductions respecting social constitutions, it remains
to point out their analogy to certain inductions respecting the consti
tutions of individual living things. Between organisms widely un
like in kind, no progeny can arise : the physiological units contrib
uted by them respectively to form a fertilized germ cannot work to
gether so as to produce a new organism. Evidently as, while multi
plying, the two classes of units tend to build themselves into two dif
ferent structures, their conflict prevents the formation of any struct
ure. If the two organisms are less unlike in kind belonging, say, to
the same genus though to different species the two structures which
their two groups of physiological units tend to build up being toler
ably similar, they can, and do, cooperate in making an organism that
is intermediate. But this, though it will work, is imperfect in its
latest-evolved parts : there results a mule incapable of propagating.
If, instead of different species, remote varieties are united, the inter
mediate organism is not infertile ; but many facts suggest the conclu
sion that infertility results in subsequent generations : the incongru
ous working of the united structures, though longer in showing itself,
comes out ultimately. And then, finally, if, instead of remote vari
eties, varieties nearly allied are united, a permanently-fertile breed
results ; and, while the slight differences of the two kinds of physio
logical units are not such as to prevent harmonious cooperation, they
are such as conduce to plasticity and unusually vigorous growth.

Here, then, seems a parallel to the conclusion indicated above,
that hybrid societies are imperfectly organizable cannot grow into
forms completely stable ; while societies that have been evolved from
mixtures of nearly-allied varieties of man can assume stable struct
ures, and have an advantageous modifiability.

We class societies, then, in two ways ; both having to be kept in
mind when interpreting social phenomena :

First, they have to be arranged in the order of their integration,
as simple, compound, doubly-compound, trebly-compound. And,
along with the increasing degrees of evolution implied by these as
cending stages of composition, we have to recognize the increasing
degrees of evolution implied by growing heterogeneity, general and
local.

Much less definite is the division to be made among societies ac
cording as one or other of their great systems of organs is supreme.

73 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Omitting those lowest types which show no differentiations at all, we
have but few exceptions to the rule that each society has structures
for carrying on conflict with other societies and structures for carry
ing on sustentation ; and the ratios between these admitting of all
gradations, it results that no specific classification can be based on
their relative developments. Nevertheless, as the predatory type,
characterized by predominance of the one, is framed on the principle
of compulsory cooperation, while the industrial type, characterized by
predominance of the other, is framed on the principle of voluntary
cooperation, the two types, when severally evolved to their extreme
forms, are diametrically opposed ; and the contrasts between their
traits are among the most important with which sociology has to
deal.

Were this the fit place, some pages might be added respecting a
possible future social type, differing as much from the industrial as
this does from the predatory a type which, having a sustaining sys
tem more fully developed than any we know at present, will use the
products of industry neither for maintaining a predatory organization
nor exclusively for material aggrandizement ; but will devote them
to the carrying on of higher activities. As the contrast between the
predatory and the industrial types is indicated by inverting the belief
that individuals exist for the benefit of the state into the belief that
the state exists for the benefit of individuals, so the contrast between
the industrial type and the type likely to be evolved from it is indi
cated by the inversion of the belief that life is for work into the belief
that work is for life. But we are here concerned with inductions de
rived from societies that have been and are, and cannot enter upon
speculations respecting societies that may be. Merely naming as a
sign the multiplication of institutions and appliances for intellectual
and aesthetic culture, and for kindred activities not of a directly life-
sustaining kind, but of a kind having gratification for their immedi
ate purpose, I can here say no more.

Returning from this parenthetical suggestion, there remains the
remark that to the complications caused by the crossings of these
two classifications have to be added the complications caused by the
unions of races widely unlike or little unlike ; which here mix not at
all, there partially, and in other cases wholly. Respecting these
kinds of constitutions, we have considerable warrant for concluding
that the hybrid kind, essentially unstable, admits of being organized
only on the principle of compulsory cooperation ; since units much op
posed in their natures cannot work together spontaneously. While,
conversely, the kind characterized by likeness in its units is relatively
stable ; and under fit conditions may evolve into the industrial type,
especially if the likeness is qualified by slight differences.

ORGANIZED HOMESTEADS AND HOUSEHOLDS. 733
ORGANIZED HOMESTEADS AND HOUSEHOLDS. 1

BY WILLIAM F. CHANNING, M. IX

THE problem of homes for the people is not a simple one. The
question is not merely how to house single families at the least
cost. No solution of the problem can be worse than the solitary farm
house in a thinly-settled country. The real question is, how to recon
cile the autonomy of the individual and family with the economies
and productive forces of modern society. The solitary farm-house is
a pioneer in the wilderness, and good for that. But the first genera
tion born in it, or as soon as civilization has spread far enough to take
it in, fly from it as if it were a pest-house. In the older States our
population is rushing into the towns, not because the earth has grown
barren, or because our town-life is natural or beautiful, but because
modern civilization attracts and marshals mankind to cooperative
work, and the universal instinct revolts against anti-social methods
and solutions. More farmers and farmers wives, in proportion to
the population, are insane, than any other industrial or professional
class in America ; and this, notwithstanding all the healthful influ
ences of Nature in the country, and the miasm, filth, and imprison
ment, of the towns.

The first step toward social order is to secure the independent
existence of the individual or family in a home which, like the tradi
tional English house, shall be a castle inviolable and safe from all in
trusion. One of the chief conditions of such independence is that
the home shall be owned by the individual or family, not rented. On
this account it introduces the wildest confusion into the present discus
sion to compare the working-men s houses in Philadelphia, owned by
themselves, with hired tenements. We are brought, however, at once
to a legitimate though limited ground of preference for the Philadel
phia plan of purchasing a homestead, over the common method of
living in rented houses, or in hired rooms in a tenement-house.

But this is only half of the question. The wastefulness of build
ing a separate house for each family, even with the cheapest appli
ances, and of carrying on the household afterward, will be always suffi
cient to make the difference between comfort and pauperism for the
masses. In other words, which will bear repetition, the separate
house does not, cannot avail itself of the social economies and pro
ductive forces which are the means of modern civilization. Two
great departments of human industry, Agriculture, already alluded to,
and the Household, remain in the hand-loom state of development.

What is needed in agriculture to charm the population back to

1 A paper read before the American Social Science Association at Philadelphia, June
1, 1876.

734 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the fields, and to double the production of the soil, is to substitute suit
able buildings at the centre of an agricultural township for unsuit
able, straggling farm-houses and barns, and to replace solitary labor
on farms by the modern method of organized industry, applied to the
cultivation of a domain large enough to permit selection of soils and
the use of adequate machinery. This question, " How can we keep
the boys on the farm? " has just received a thoughtful answer from
Colonel George E. Waring, in an " Ogden Farm-Paper," in tbe April
number of the American Agriculturist.

What we need, in order to harmonize our household system with
other branches of modern industry, is a Federative Homestead, owned
~by those inhabiting it, in which the great entries or halls may be con
sidered as streets under cover, and the individual or family domiciles,
houses under a common roof. For such buildings a new architecture
and new machinery are needed. The Peabody tenement-houses in
London, the family club-houses in England and on the Continent, the
family hotels in this country, and the Familistere at Guise, though
furnishing valuable architectural suggestions, have solved as yet but
few of the problems of construction of the " People s Palace," as it has
been called. Invention also has done comparatively little to furnish
labor-saving machinery for agriculture and the household on account
of the segregated and slovenly character of these industries.

The most obvious form of the People s Palace in the town is a hol
low square, surrounded with streets, with inclosed and surrounding
gardens the space in the centre being large enough to give air and
a pleasant outlook to the inner domiciles. To further this object, one
side of the square might be left open, or devoted to work-rooms, only
a single story in height. In the country the building might take the
form of a cross, giving an open view on all sides with public rooms
and halls, or a conservatory under glass (a winter garden) in the
middle, and gardens surrounding.

The economies would increase, and also the independence of the
occupants, with the increase of numbers within certain limits. While
the edifice might be of equal size for rich or poor, the separate domi
ciles would naturally be smaller and more numerous where the means
of the proprietors were less. In the same building the various domi
ciles would differ in value according to situation and size, and thus
would suit persons of different means. Not less than one hundred
nor more than four hundred families may be assumed for illustration as
probable limits of number.

A building of architectural beauty, favorably situated in country
or town, to contain one hundred domiciles, would cost, including land,
not more than two-thirds as much as one hundred separate houses of
the same class, giving to each family the same amount and quality of
habitable room. The edifice should be fire-proof, safer from intrusion,
better drained, better ventilated, freer from offenses of all kinds, than

ORGANIZED HOMESTEADS AND HOUSEHOLDS. 735

the solitary houses. A finely-appointed kitchen, laundry, heating,
lighting, and elevating apparatus, with telegraphic and other means
of communication, sufficient for the wants of a hundred families, would
replace one hundred sets of inferior work-rooms and apparatus in the
separate houses. But one or more work-rooms would be provided in
each domicile for minor or exceptional use.

The cost of carrying on the People s Household, including warm
ing, lighting, water and food supply, cooking, and the laundry, with
superintendence and general service, would not be more than two-
thirds the cost of living in separate houses of the same class, all pur
chases being made at wholesale, and the work being performed by
organized labor, using the best machinery. Each individual or family
would be charged (perhaps against a monthly advance) for precisely
what they consumed. The difference of cost between meals served
in family alcoves of a great hall, or by dumb-waiter, or equivalent
machinery, in each domicile, would be small, and, like all other arrange
ments, at the option of each proprietor. In previous experiments of
this general character, it has not been found that any family would
long prefer the more costly and inferior method of private purchase
and labor in the departments of cooking and washing, although pro
vision could easily be made for a limited use of the public machinery
by individuals having such preference.

This estimate leaves to the women of each family the greater part
of their time. Here is one of the greatest existing wastes of labor.
The separate house necessarily and permanently dooms ivoman to
drudgery. Under the present system she necessarily carries on a
hundred trades every day by hand-work, as wasteful of productive
force as the old spinning-wheel. The labor of women, saved in this
way, would find new channels. The steam-power in the unitary
building, in constant use for elevators, pumping, washing, cooking,
heating, lighting, would always furnish a surplus of motive power for
sewing-machines and small industries which would naturally grow up.
In the People s Palace a Kindergarten for the youngest children, and
schools more or less industrial and technical for those older, would
have a natural and inevitable place. While this would still further
relieve the mothers, it would also be a field for the occupation of
women and men living in the Homestead who were specially gifted
in these directions. Other collective work of the People s Home
would give occupation to some of the inmates. Halls for lectures
and social purposes, a library and reading-room, would also be among
the endowments of every People s Palace.

Rising higher in the social scale, the question of domestic service,
now so difficult of solution, would be summarily settled. In palatial
buildings, occupying with inclosed and surrounding gardens a whole
city square, erected with the wealth of a hundred rich families, nine-
tenths of all the work would be done by the collective labor of em-

73 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ployes, who would have no personal relations or contact with the in
dividual proprietors. The remaining one-tenth of domestic service
would admit of such selection and improvement of present methods
as to get rid of the principal part of the evil. It is much easier to
drill and actuate a corps of one hundred operatives in a public ser
vice than to direct a single domestic ; and the elements of personal
collision and suffering self-respect, inseparable from the latter rule,
are absent from the former.

The Federative Homesteads, or People s Palaces, would especially
need " Building Associations " for their establishment. But these
associations would be neither charitable nor speculative ; they would
be mutual-insurance companies, not for rebuilding houses destroyed
by fire, but to build each a palace, as perfect as modern art could
make it, for the occupancy of its members, and subsequently to carry
on the Palatial Household. The comparison of the Philadelphia sys
tem of separate houses, poorly constructed, and purchased by install
ments from building corporations not always purely mutual, should
be made with such collective, self-owned homesteads, not with hired
tenements, even should these be on the scale and with the appliances
of the Peabody tenement-houses in London, erected by a magnificent
charity.

The People s Palace, to replace the people s hovels, is no fanciful
project or arbitrary contrivance, but the natural, inevitable form of
the household required by our civilization, corresponding strictly
with all our improved methods of productive industry ; correspond
ing also with the social instincts and convictions of the time in which
we live. Opposed to its practical introduction is the want of intelli
gence and mutual confidence in the masses, and also a selfish and ex
clusive spirit, which is short-sighted and defeats its own end. Wit
ness the insecurity and ruinous waste of our separate households, the
drudgery of women, and the slavery to servants. In agriculture
witness also the loss of at least one-half the natural product by in
coherent labor in the fields, and by the isolated farm-house and barn. 1

I began this presentation of the "People s Palace" with the de
mand for an architecture and structural law which should throw
around each individual and family a fortress of privacy, and which
should secure a home-sphere more inviolable than is possible in our
isolated houses, invaded daily by a horde of carriers, and pervaded
by an alien caste of servants. This largest freedom and independence
of the individual and family can only be assured by the perfect
organization of the Homestead and Household.

In the vegetable and animal kingdoms the law of organization
requires 1. The establishment of each individual molecule or cell in

1 Reference is here due to an American sociological novel, entitled " Papa s Own
Girl," by Marie Rowland, which furnishes a vivid description of the Familistere at Guise,
and its supposed adoption in this country.

ORGANIZED HOMESTEADS AXD HOUSEHOLDS. 737

a world of its own ; 2. The coordination and cooperation of such
atoms or cells with each other, in a collective body or organism,
according to their precise form and place. The want of either of
these factors, the distinct individual units, or the scientific group
ing and marshaling of units in a collective unity, deprives a body of
its place in the organic world. The same factors must enter into
every social organization which is entitled to the name. We have in
this country an example of a true organization in our federative
political system, composed of townships, counties, States, and nation,
with its motto, " Out of many, one." I have drawn thence the
designation Federative for the organized Homestead.

It is essential that relations of precise equity shall prevail between
the proprietors of a Collective Home. The right of individual
property in each domicile should be fortified by separate title and
right of sale, subject only to chartered restrictions. In a well con
structed and organized Federative Homestead such domiciles would
always be salable at full cost value. A precise account, based on
accurate standards of measurement, must be kept with each individ
ual or family, including both general and special supplies and ser
vices. Instruction in the schools of the Palace would be classed
among services to be specially accounted for. Our present common-
school system (the best of our institutions) is a violation of social
organic law, on the side of communism, to balance its violation in
the opposite direction by incoherent industry and incoherent homes.
The only scientific justification, if it may be so called, of the present
system, is the rule that two wrongs make a right. The relation of
highly-organized societies to children will, without doubt, be parental,
through the recognition of new equities and the extension of mutual
affection and service. But the further consideration of this subject
does not belong here.

There are two extremes of reaction against existing society : one,
Communism, its destructive fusion ; the other, Individual^overeignty,
its destructive analysis. Each tends to social dissolution, because it
rejects one of the organic factors. Between these extremes occupy
ing the domain of organization are two possible social orders, one
constructive, attractive in all its forces, cooperative, in harmony with
modern thought, and with the development of science and the arts.
The People s Palace is the natural form of household belonging to
this order. The other is an inverted organization, compulsory, actu
ated by destructive rivalries, characterized by speculation and fraud,
and feudal in its tendencies and results. To this latter order, the
middle-age civilization of Europe and America, which still holds
us, belong the isolated house and all in our present methods which
insulate instead of associating the industries, and reconciling the
interests of mankind. The single but sufficient means of resisting
the communistic dissolution of our present society is to substitute
VOL. ix. 47

738 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

everywhere for inverted methods natural organization, or, in other
words, scientific cooperation.

The claim that the Federative Home, or " People s Palace," is the
natural, inevitable form of the organized Household coextensive
with the future society brings the subject within the domain of
legitimate social science. The consideration of improved expedients
for housing the people, without regard to the essential form and ten
dencies of civilization, is no part of social science, but only a dis
cussion of the arts of life.

RELATIONS OF HOSPITALS TO PAUPERISM. 1

BY W. GILL WYLIE, M. D.

/CIVILIZATION" has not reached that state of perfection where
V_y hospitals can be dispensed with. 1. As long, as armies exist,
hospitals will be necessary. Soldiers when sick must be provided with
special accommodations ; and, after a battle, the wounded cannot be
properly cared for except in hospitals constructed especially for the
purpose. 2. During epidemics of contagious, and infectious diseases,
it becomes a necessity to separate those infected from the well, and
for their accommodation hospitals must be erected. 3. In every com
munity, especially in large cities, there are always a certain number
of paupers without any homes, who must be cared for when sick, and
the only practical way of providing for them is to establish hospitals.
4. In large cities provision must be made for street casualties, and
hospital accommodations are necessary. 5. On account of difficulty
in making suitable provision for the insane in private houses, hospitals
or asylums for the insane are necessary.

In this country, in all large cities, any one representing himself as
poor and sick can apply either to the public hospitals supported by
the State or to hospitals supported by voluntary contributions, and is
admitted in many cases without any special inquiry or investigation as
to his circumstances. In some places as New York City hospitals
are so numerous, and admission to them so freely granted, that there
is little or no restraint on impostors. If refused admission to one in
stitution, they go to another and receive treatment and care without
cost, when they are fully able to provide for themselves. And so
numerous are the dispensaries where medicines and medical advice
can be obtained free of cost, merely for the asking, and so easy and
readily can care and attention be had in free hospitals, that the poor
have no necessity to make provision for sickness.

It is estimated that about $10,000,000 are expended in public and

1 Extract from Boylston Medical Prize Essay, Harvard University, on " Civil Hospital
Construction," 1876.

RELATIONS OF HOSPITALS TO PAUPERISM. 739

private charities annually in the city of New York, a city of 1,000,-
000 inhabitants. A considerable portion of this sum is expended on
the hospitals, which alone contain more than 6,000 beds, not includ
ing insane or other asylums, but only institutions known by the
name of hospitals. About 4,000 of the 6,000 beds are in public
city or State hospitals, the remaining 2,000 being in hospitals sup
ported by voluntary charity. The official reports of the thirty-odd
free dispensaries give 307,060 as the number of patients applying for
and receiving treatment in 1875 at the dispensaries, against 20,631
treated at their homes.

To say that $10,000,000 are expended in charities, that there
are 6,000 free beds in the hospitals, and that over 300,000 persons
receive medicine and medical advice free of cost at the dispensa
ries, is certainly evidence of the generosity and Christian spirit of
charity that prevail. But, when looked at in a direct, practical
way, these figures show something else. If these official reports are
to be relied upon, then, in a population of 1,000,000, over 300,000 per
sons receive alms every year. We doubt if the number of individuals
is so large, for it is the custom of some dispensaries to count each
visit a patient makes as a patient treated. But the actual number is
immense, and increasing out of all proportion to the increase of popu
lation. The truth is, the majority of our hospitals, as they are at
present managed^ are liable to do more harm than good. Apparently
they do much good, and for the time do relieve suffering and want,
but in the end may do much harm. Giving help too readily even
during sickness is hurtful, and when it is offered freely without the
certain knowledge that it is really needed, it very naturally removes
the healthful stimulus of necessity, the dread of which prompts every
individual to provide for the misfortune of sickness.

The dispensaries as they are now managed are nothing less than
a promiscuous charity, exactly similar to the notorious " soup-kitch
en " medicine being substituted for soup. They offer to the
ignorant and poor an easy and ever-ready inducement to take alms.
They are the first stepping-stones to the degradation of pauperism.
The self-respect of an individual is injured the moment he accepts
alms, and a habit of taking alms invariably tends to a complete loss
of self-respect and consequent degradation. It matters but little
whether alms be medicine or food, the principle remains the same.
The hungry must be fed ; but we know that, instead of continuing to
feed the hungry, and gradually destroying their power to help them
selves, it is infinitely better to teach them how to help themselves and
seek out and remove the cause that induced the miserable condition
of helplessness. For exactly the same reason, would it not be better
to teach the poor how to avoid getting sick, and by every means in
our power remove the causes that induce disease among them, rather
than to offer them the best care and attention without being sure that

74 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

they need help, and thus teaching them to become careless about
avoiding sickness ?

It would be more creditable to the citizens of New York if they
could say that no such institution as a pauper hospital was needed
within the limits of the city than to be able to say that two hundred
established charitable institutions and organizations are maintained ;
and instead of so many millions being spent in caring for the sick,
would it not be better if the same money, or perhaps only a small
part of it, were spent in carrying out sanitary works, and teaching
the people the laws of health ?

Suppose, during the prevalence of a contagious epidemic, the au
thorities should content themselves with providing for those infected,
and neglect to take the necessary steps to remove the cause of the
disease by doing all that sanitary science indicated they would soon
be called to account for neglect of duty. It is a well-known fact
that the great majority of the cases of disease treated in our hospitals
are induced by the bad sanitary condition of the homes of the poor,
and to the direct violation, through ignorance, of the plainest hygienic
laws ; yet what direct steps are taken to correct this constantly-acting
cause of sickness? The Health Department of New York City is
expected to do little else than prevent epidemics of contagious and
infectious diseases. The meagre appropriation prevents them from
doing much more.

This statement concerning the charities of New York City cannot
be called a fair example of the condition of the hospitals and other
charities in smaller places, but it shows very plainly and truthfully
the prevailing faults in the administration of charities throughout the
country; and if the condition and results of the charities of smaller
places are not so bad, it is due to local circumstances, and not to a
better understanding of the subject, nor to the adoption of a more
enlightened system.

The circumstances are very much in favor of the smaller cities and
towns. Leaving out the many well-known causes that tend to gen
erate pauperism, and thus increase the relative number of paupers in
a large city that do not exist in towns or small cities, the main reason
that charity does not do so much harm in the latter is, that the cir
cumstances and the character of every one are well known to the peo
ple, and this personal knowledge guides and directs the givers of
charity ; whereas in the large cities it is seldom that the giver of
charity knows to whom he is giving, and personal knowledge rarely
exists at all. The difference between the lives of the rich and the
poor is so great that the rich cannot comprehend the real needs of
the poor. Unless these personal relations exist between those that
give and those that receive, no act of generosity deserves the name
of that charity which " blesseth twice," for gratitude is not devel
oped in those receiving help. They give nothing in return for what

RELATIONS OF HOSPITALS TO PAUPERISM. 741

they receive. Experience teaches that to do for an individual that
which it is possible for him to do for himself will invariably tend
to harm, unless he gives in return an equivalent, either by actual pay
ment or in gratitude. And experience also teaches that human na
ture can only feel gratitude toward an individual.

Besides this tendency in hospitals as charitable institutions to in
crease pauperism, another serious objection to the use of public hos
pitals for the purpose of treating the sick beyond the extent abso
lutely demanded by necessity is, that every time an individual is
removed from his home let that home be ever so humble and taken
to a hospital, the family as an institution receives a blow.

Then, too, except to those already degraded, life in a pauper hos
pital, especially in the case of the young, is hardening to the feelings,
while in many cases it subjects the moral to the influence of the
immoral.

Another objection to hospitals is the bad sanitary condition of
many of them, and unless this is improved, both as to the plan and
the construction of the buildings, and the general and internal man
agement, so as to give a smaller death-rate and fewer deaths from
hospital-diseases than in the vast majority of hospitals now in use, it
will be decidedly better, on sanitary grounds alone, to treat in their
homes all the sick poor who have homes, even though they may be
very bad and unhealthy places to live in. As to the expense of treat
ing the poor at their homes, it certainly would not be greater than
the expense of running the hospitals, if the interest-money is added
which could be had from the immense sums that are sunk in the mas
sive, many-storied hospital buildings, and the expensive city lots on
which they stand.

But as poor-relief is now administered, and, no doubt, under the
best system that could be devised, a certain number of hospitals for
treating the sick poor will be necessary. When properly constructed
and managed they are a great blessing to the poor, while, from
the advantages they afford for the study and teaching of clinical
medicine and nursing, they are of incalculable value to the whole
community.

Since the establishment of the Training-School for Nurses in con
nection with St. Thomas s Hospital, by Miss Nightingale, in England,
fifteen years ago, and, in this country, of the School for Nurses in
connection with Bellevue Hospital, New York, three years ago, the
great advantages of hospital-instruction are recognized for those who
are studying nursing.

In the founding of hospitals, the question of their usefulness to
medical education has not been given due consideration. As a rule,
the idea of rendering immediate personal relief to the suffering poor
is the first, and in many cases the only acknowledged object aimed at
in establishing them.

74 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The objections to civil hospitals as now stated may be said to be :
1. As institutions, they tend to weaken the family tie by separating
the sick from their homes and their relatives, who are often too ready
to relieve themselves of the burden of the sick and helpless of their
family. Besides, when one or more of a family are removed those
left at home are in an uncertain state of mind, and, in many instances,
in an unprotected condition. 2. The inmates of pauper hospitals are
liable to come in contact with bad influences : familiarity with suffer
ing, unaccompanied by the occupation of relieving those who are
suffering, ends in hardening the sensibility, especially in the young.
3. Like all public and general charities without the safeguard that
personal knowledge affords, hospitals tend to foster idleness and help
lessness, and their natural results, pauperism and crime. 4. When
badly constructed or badly managed, they are liable to cause hospital-
diseases among the inmates, and become centres of infection, thus
defeating the very object they are intended to promote.

On the other hand, the arguments in favor of civil hospitals are :
1. They are a necessity under many circumstances for giving shelter
to the sick and helpless, and are supposed to be the most economical
method of providing for the sick poor. 2. They are of very great
value as affording an opportunity for the comparative study of dis
eases, and for giving practical instruction in the science of medicine
and the art of nursing to the greatest advantage, and thus, by help
ing directly a few individuals, indirectly rendering a service of incal
culable value to the world. 3. During contagious epidemics they are
a ready means of providing for those who are infected, and, by their
isolation, preventing the spread of disease.

As means toward checking the undesirable multiplication of ex
pensive institutions, toward preventing hospitals from breaking up or
interfering with the family tie, and at the same time to keep them from
engendering pauperism, we suggest : 1. Do all that can be done to
enlighten the poor to help themselves, and to avoid the causes of dis
ease. 2. Give indirect help by improving the condition of the homes
of the poor, by strict laws in regard to the existence and building of
all dwelling-houses, manufactories, schools, etc., etc., and in regard to
the sale of food. 3. Limit hospital accommodations to those who
have no homes, and to those who cannot be assisted at their homes.

It is doubtful if the state can give direct out-door help, even med
ical help, without doing more harm than good. It can only be done
wisely by establishing a Bureau of Intelligence in connection with the
police department, with offices at each police station, where the names
and the numbers of the inmates in every house in the precinct or dis
trict would be known, and where, from personal knowledge, a record
of all individuals receiving help as to their circumstances, the amount
of aid given, etc. would be kept. As far as possible, all help rendered
should be guided by this knowledge, and it should be obligatory on

GEORGE HENRY LEWES. 743

all charitable institutions and associations to give information of all
assistance rendered by them to individuals living in the district.

Through this Intelligence Bureau reliable personal knowledge of
every applicant for hospital-relief could be obtained. We fully ap
preciate the great difficulty of organizing and uniting voluntary
charities in this country, where there are so many different religious
sects ; but by establishing such a system as the above much could
be done toward distributing help where it is really needed, and tow
ard preventing indiscriminate charity, and in detecting impostors. To
avoid the injurious moral effects of hospitals on the characters of the
inmates, and to prevent such bad sanitary conditions in hospitals as
are sure to result in retarding cures, and often in the generation of
fatal hospital-diseases, it is necessary to have hospitals constructed
and managed in accordance with the teachings of sanitary science.

GEORGE HENRY LEWES.

versatile thinker, known to science by his " Seaside Studies "
-L and his "Physiology of Common Life" works of much origi
nality as well as by his "History of Philosophy" and his "Prob
lems of Life and Mind," in which he puts forth independent views on
scientific methodology, was born in London, April 18, 1817. At an
early age he was sent to the Continent of Europe to receive an educa
tion, but returned while still a lad, and was then placed under the
tuition of Dr. Burney, at Greenwich.

The influence of his residence abroad, during the impressionable
period of boyhood, is seen in a greater degree of vivacity than is
usual among his countrymen. On leaving school young Lewes be
came a clerk in a mercantile house, but, as his tastes inclined him
rather to a literary and scientific than a business career, he left the
counting-house and took up the study of anatomy and physiology.
His interest in these sciences appears to have sprung purely from a
thirst for knowledge, as he did not purpose to become a physician.
As early as 1836 he had in contemplation a treatise on the philosophy
of mind, in which the doctrines of the Scotch metaphysicians Reid,
Stewart, and Brown were to be physiologically interpreted, and,
during the following year, he gave a course of lectures upon this sub
ject. The investigations made at this time were destined to be sus
pended for a while, but later to be resumed and pushed forward into
the most difficult provinces of philosophical inquiry. The years 1838
and 1839 he spent in Germany, devoting himself with characteristic
assiduity to the study of literature and philosophy. Besides ac
quiring a mastery of the German language, he gained an intimate-

744 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

acquaintance with German habits of thought. Even in his boy
hood he was an indefatigable bookworm, and residence in Germany
tended only to strengthen him in this habit, and to make him one of
the most versatile writers and at the same time one of the most
diligent students of the day. On his return to England, he for the
first time felt, as he said, fully confident to enter on his career as a
litterateur. He contributed to the columns of the daily press reviews
and criticisms of books, and to the quarterly reviews and the leading
literary magazines of England scientific and philosophical essays,
biographical sketches, and the like. In 1849 he assumed the literary
editorship of the Leader newspaper, which post he held till 1854. A
London correspondent of an American journal, referring to this period
of Lewes s life, says : " His criticisms, as indeed all his writings, were
noted for piquancy, brilliancy, and boldness of thought. He had not
only no objection to expressing his opinions; he was determined that
the public should know them if they were capable of comprehending
pungent and forcible English. He has never been a man with moral
or mental reservations. As soon as he has a new thought, a new
conviction, a new theory, he blurts it out. He was not long in mak
ing his mark, and from that time to the present, whatever has ema
nated from him has attracted attention and awakened interest." In
1865 he founded the Fortnightly Review, but was compelled by ill
health to resign the editorship the following year; he was succeeded
by John Morley.

His first elaborate work a work which affords ample evidence
both of his laborious industry and of his keen insight was the
"Biographical History of Philosophy, from Thales to Comte," first
published in 1845. A fourth edition, corrected and partly rewritten,
appeared in 187X (2 vols.). An acute French critic says of this work
of Mr. Lewes : " His history resembles rather that of Hegel than
that of Hitter. His review of the labors of philosophers is rather
occupied with that which they have thought than with their com
parative importance. He judges rather than expounds ; his history
is fastidious and critical. It is the work of a clear, precise, and ele
gant mind, always that of a writer often witty, measured, possessing
no taste for declamation, and making its interest profitable to the
reader whom he forces to think. This is no ordinary history of phi
losophy ; it is the work of an original mind which has a great deal to
say, and yields voluntarily to the pleasure of saying it, a mind which
handles texts like a thinker, not like a scholar. Assuredly we must
not search Mr. Lewes s pages for enlightenment upon obscure points
and upon controverted passages ; but in this long journey from Thales
to Comte the author has taken amazing pains, and has put forth
enough teaching to content some, to leave others discontented, and to
make every one reflect " (Ribot, " English Psychology "). In the
preface to this history Mr. Lewes offers the following definition of the

GEORGE HENRY LEWES. 745

limits of theology, philosophy, and science : " Theology, philosophy,
and science," he writes, " constitute our spiritual triumvirate. . . .
Its [theology s] main province is the province of feeling ; its office is
the systematization of our religious conceptions. The office of science
is distinct. It may be denned as the systematization of the order of
phenomena considered as phenomena. The office of philosophy is
again distinct from these. It is the systematization of the conceptions
furnished by theology and science k.i:iorr\\i-r\ e7TC7T7? j u,Gjv (the science
of sciences). This " History of Philosophy " was commenced by its
author with the definite purpose of showing the radical weakness of
all metaphysics. "The history of philosophy," he writes, "presents
the spectacle of thousands of intellects some of the greatest that
have made our race illustrious steadily concentrated on problems
believed to be of vital importance, yet producing no other result than
a conviction of the extreme fa-cility of error. The only conquest has
been critical, i. e., physiological." His opinion of the value of scien
tific methods in philosophical inquiry is expressed in the following
passage: "There are many who deplore the encroachment of science,
fondly imagining that metaphysical philosophy would respond better
to the higher wants of man. This regret is partly unreasoning senti
ment, partly ignorance of the limitations of human faculty. Even
among those who admit that ontology is an impossible attempt, there
are many who think it should be persevered in, because of the lofty
views it is supposed to open to us. This is as if a man, desirous of
going to America, should insist on walking there, because journeys on
foot are more poetical than journeys by steam. He dies without
reaching America, but to the last gasp he maintains that he has
discovered the route on which others may reach it." In 1853 Mr.
Lewes contributed to Bonn s "Scientific Library" a volume entitled
" Comte s Philosophy of the Sciences."

Five years later (1858) appeared his " Seaside Studies at Ilfracombe."
For the meeting of the British Association, the same year, he prepared
a paper on " The Spinal Cord as a Centre of Sensation and Volition ; "
in 1850 he published three papers on "The Nervous System," in
which he combated the received doctrines. These papers gave rise
to a warm discussion among British physiologists, and even attracted
much attention on the Continent of Europe. The "Physiology of
Common Life" appeared in 1860, and in the following year was pub
lished " Studies in Animal Life." The object of these researches into
the nervous system of animals and man was, as he informs us in the
preface of his latest work, to obtain the clew through the labyrinth of
mental phenomena. Misled by the plausible supposition that the
complex phenomena in man might be better interpreted by approach
ing them through the simpler phenomena in animals, he began to col
lect materials for a work on animal psychology. But he was not then
aware that, rightly to understand the mental condition of animals,

746 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

we must first gain a clear vision of the fundamental processes in man ;
for it is only through our knowledge of the processes in ourselves that
we can interpret the manifestations of similar processes in them.
Here again we are hampered by the anthropomorphic tendency which
leads us to assign exclusively human motives to animal actions. In
1864 he published "Aristotle: a Chapter from the History of Sci
ence," with analyses of the Stagirite s scientific works. This work
was republished in 1873. Since that time he has published, in two
volumes, the first series of " Problems of Life and Mind," which was
noticed in the MONTHLY, No. 42. The other published works of Mr.
Lewes are : " Ranthorpe a Tale" (1847) ; " The Spanish Drama," and
"Rose, Blanche, and Violet," a novel (1848) ; "The Noble Heart," a
tragedy, and a "Life of Robespierre" (1850); "Life and Works of
Goethe" (1855), indisputably the best work on the subject. Besides
these separate volumes he is, as has been already stated, the author
of a multitude of essays, reviews, criticisms, etc., in the periodical
press.

Personally, Mr. Lewes is described as rather small in stature.
His face gives no very clear indication of the mental power he unques
tionably possesses. His health has always been infirm, and he looks
older than he is. From his portrait, one might imagine Lewes to be
a man accustomed to life out-of-doors, though, he has always been a
close student and a resident of London, or other large capitals. His
manner differs markedly from that of the generality of Englishmen.
" In his own set," writes the newspaper correspondent already quoted,
" he abounds in geniality and bonhomie. He does not remind you of
an Englishman ; he has none of the hesitation or drawl so typical of
his nation, but talks with marked ease and fluency and radiance. He
is fond of epigram and paradox, and, being a close observer, his nar
ration of men and things is extremely entertaining. He has the rep
utation of being one of the most brilliant conversationalists in Lon
don, though, like most clever talkers, he is prone to monopoly and
monologue." As an author he is slow and painstaking, and the longer
he lives the more careful and conscientious does he become in this
respect. He does not believe that thoughtful and growing men ac
quire facility with years, and says that when he was forty he would
do four or five pages in the time now required for one. Some years
ago he married the eminent novelist, Marian Evans, known to fame as
George Eliot. They live in one of the suburbs of London, and their
home is represented as being one of the happiest, the likeness of their
pursuits and ambitions being an additional bond of unity.

CORRESP ONDENCE.

747

CORRESPONDENCE.

ACADEMY OP NATUKAL SCIENCES OF
PHILADELPHIA.

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

AT the risk of appearing ungracious,
and possibly fastidious, I beg leave
to invite attention to some inaccuracies in
a brief notice of the Academy of Natural
Sciences of Philadelphia, published in THE
POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY for August,
1876. The statements are erroneous; and,
taken as a whole, the article does not fairly
present the Academy to the public. The
enthusiasm of ray learned friend Prof. Cope
has possibly led the writer of the article
into misconception.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY says, in
substance, that Prof. E. D. Cope availed
himself of the occasion of the Academy s
taking possession of its new building " to
suggest in the Penn Monthly some needed
changes and improvements " in the organ
ization of the society.

Prof. Cope, in his article on " The Acad
emy of Natural Sciences" in the Penn
Monthly, mentions that the Academy while
changing its location revised its organiza
tion, " adding some functions which shall "
relate it to the public more nearly than
heretofore ; that " its founder," meaning, of
course, its seven founders, designed that
the objects of the society should be promo
tion of original research, of instruction, and
of the diffusion of knowledge.

Prof. Cope, Corresponding Secretary of
the society, and at the period referred to
one of a committee instructed to revise the
by-laws with a view to improvement, did
suddenly conceive and hastily deliver to the
public press, contrary to the usual prac
tice in such cases, an article referring to
matters which were under consideration of
the committee at the time, possibly in ex
pectation that a small minority on some
points of peculiar interest might be made a
majority through the influence of his elo
quence.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY says that
the Academy has " a moderate fund for pro

moting" the diffusion of knowledge, and
regularly publishes "Transactions."

The Academy has a very modest " pub
lication-fund," but it has never put forth
anything under the title of " Transactions."
It publishes the Journal of the Academy of
Natural Sciences of Philadelphia (quarto),
and the Proceedings of the Academy of Nat
ural Sciences of Philadelphia (octavo), the
first now including 6,592 pages and 565
plates, and the second, 10,692 pages and
136 plates, which together constitute the
Academy s records of original research.

" Original research is not materially en
couraged by the Academy." THE POPULAR
SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Original research is considerably encour
aged by publishing the reports of investi
gators, and by giving them freely the use
of a scientific library of 25,000 volumes,
and of extensive collections of natural ob
jects while engaged in their work. If it is
meant that the Academy does not encourage
original research because it does not feed,
lodge, and clothe investigators, or pretend
to compensate them in any manner for sci
entific work, the charge must be admitted.
It may truly plead, however, in extenuation,
of the illiberal policy of which it is accused,
that its resources have never exceeded its
current expenditures for fuel, light, postage,
freight, etc., etc. The Academy is accused,
indirectly, with doing less to encourage
original research than might be done with
its means : " for," says THE POPULAR SCI
ENCE MONTHLY, " in one instance funds,
supposed to be devoted to research, were
hoarded, and afterward turned over to the
building-fund."

The Academy never had funds which
were in fact or " supposed to be devoted to
research." The assertion to the contrary
is not true. A section of the Academy had
a surplus accumulation in its publication-
fund, and generously contributed a part of
it to aid the Academy to finish its building.
The members of that section are as earnest
in the promotion of the interests of science

7*3

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and of the Academy, and as intelligent in
the application of their means, as the gen
tleman who makes their gift the basis of an
accusation of dereliction of duty against
the Academy.

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY says,
" Less than five hundred dollars per annum
is devoted to instruction. "

For this purpose the Academy expends
$480, the entire proceeds of a fund be
queathed to it for this object. Is it reason
ably honest to make it a fault that it does
not spend more for a specific purpose than
it has to spend ?

Again, " The chief fault found by Prof.
Cope in the organization of the Academy
is that, while it secures good financial man
agement, it minimizes the scientific features
of the body." And, as if to sustain the
assertion that the organization minimizes
the scientific features of the body, we are
gravely assured, in a somewhat contempt
uous manner, in the words of Prof. Cope,
that "its officers are the usual president,
vice-president, secretary, etc., constituting
a management as appropriate to an his
torical society, library company, or, I might
add, church vestry, as to an academy of
natural sciences. It has no position de
signed for its distinctive and essential feat
ure, its scientific experts."

Since its foundation the organization of
the society has been frequently and care
fully revised. In 1858 provision for the
formation of departments, which were called
sections in 1868, was made. About six
years ago a council was added to it, and in
May last the council was enlarged, and au
thorized to elect thirteen professors, but no
source of compensation or rate of compen
sation has been provided for them. Posi
tions for its scientific experts have been thus
provided. In this revision of the organiza
tion it was considered to be not expedient
at this time to dispense with president, vice-
presidents, secretaries, treasurer, etc., al
though it is freely admitted that these offi
cers are as appropriate to a church vestry
as to an academy of natural sciences.

It is made the duty of each professor to
preserve, classify, and increase the collec
tions in his department, and report annually
their condition and needs to the council,
to give special or objective instruction to

the beneficiaries of the scholarships in the
Academy, and to deliver courses of lectures,
under such regulations as the council may
establish.

If any properly-qualified gentleman is
willing to assume the duties of a professor
ship without pecuniary compensation, his
services will be cheerfully accepted, and he
will be encouraged to pursue original in
vestigations as far as can be done without
money. It is conjectured, however, that
competition for these chairs will not be very
active until they are adequately endowed.

The old building was universally admit
ted to be crowded to excess, and that more
space was needed for the collections as well
as for the library. Prof. Cope speaks of the
collections, and* considers them, with one or
two exceptions, as extremely meagre, and
tells us that a great museum of the future,
to be complete, should contain 10,000,000
species of animals, represented by " sev
eral specimens of each," aggregating from
30,000,000 to 50,000,000 specimens, add
ing in the sequel that all the money spent
on the new building would have been "as
well spent in endowing chairs in the old lo
cality."

In spite of the authority of Prof. Cope s
opinion thus implied, that the old building
was large enough, it is now found that a
half-million of specimens cannot be satis
factorily displayed in the new edifice, though
it is twice as capacious as the old one. There
is already urgent demand for more space,
and this is so evident that contributions to
the building-fund have been recently made
with a view to an immediate completion of
the edifice conformably to the approved
plans of the architect. No one thing which
can be done now is likely to promote the
prosperity of the Academy in the future to
a greater degree than to finish the building
without loss of time. Efforts to augment
the collections will not be very earnest, nor
successful in result, until there be accom
modation for additions which may be made
to them. Original investigation will be
more active in the Academy when it can
offer a well-appointed laboratory for the
use of workers ; and an apartment suitably
furnished to accommodate an audience,
and enable the professors to illustrate their
teachings, is prerequisite to the delivery of

CORRESP ONDENCE.

749

systematic courses of popular or elementary
lectures on natural science in the Academy.
The completion of the building will facili
tate and strengthen all the functions of the
society in all its departments, and lay the
foundation of a workshop in which experts
and students may pursue investigations ad
vantageously to science and themselves.

The progress of the Academy has been
always deliberate and unobtrusive. It will
so continue until accelerated by enlarged
resources.

To the full extent of its means the Acad
emy encourages original research, gives in
struction to those who seek it, and promotes
the diffusion of knowledge. Its doors are
never closed against a student or votary of
science ; every one is cordially welcome, and
given such assistance and facilities as the
society has, which are all charitable gifts,
benevolently aggregated and preserved here
for the benefit of the intellectually hungry.
It may be safely conjectured that its useful
ness will increase, paripassu, with the aug
mentation of its pecuniary resources, unless
Utopian projects of scientific grandeur and
exclusiveness be injected into its policy.

Observance of that wise and holy pre
cept, suum cuique to Caesar the things
which are Caesar s relatively both to sub
stantial things and mental products, would
save us all a world of trouble and vexation.
Commending the consideration of this pre
cept to my readers most cordially, I am,
Very respectfully,

W. S. W. RUSCHENBERGER.

PHILADELPHIA, August 1, 1876.

LIMITS OF THE WESTERN GEASSHOP-
PEES EAVAGES.

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

IN THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY for
July I find the statement quoted from
Prof. Riley that the southern limit of the
locust ravages is the 44th parallel of lati
tude, and the eastern limit the 103d merid
ian. The latitude of this place is 39 52
nearly. As I write, the locusts are flying
so thickly as to give sunlight the yellow
tinge of dense smoke. Last night, in a sin
gle hour, whole fields of barley were eaten
to the ground, and the fields swept cleaner

than the harvester could have done the
work. These ravages to-day extend one
hundred and twenty-five miles south of this
place, or to latitude 37, and how much
farther the news has not reached me.
Their appearance here is neither unex
pected nor exceptional. During the three
preceding years agricultural products
throughout Colorado were almost entirely
destroyed, and thousands of farms were
financially ruined. They have visited us to
a greater or less extent annually for the
last twelve years, and their ravages have
often extended as far east as Lawrence,
Kansas, or two hundred miles east of the
line prescribed in the article referred to.
Our altitude is 8,300 feet above the ocean,
but this is not their limit. A few days ago
I was on a mountain-summit, 14,000 feet in
height, and there they were flying to the
westward, high overhead, in immense clouds.
Many plans are resorted to for their destruc
tion. Kerosene dripping slowly upon the
water in irrigating ditches is very effec
tive. Traveling machines, filled with fire,
passing over the ground like mowers, de
stroy millions ; but when they come in
clouds, as to-day, I know of no defense at
all adequate.

I have driven them a hundred times to
day from the little twenty-foot green spot
in front of my house, and yet there are as
many there as if I had done nothing. For
tunately they are fastidious, and often will
not eat grass, potatoes, or oats.

There is one remedy which I believe
would be effective, and that is the preserva
tion of prairie-grouse and other insectivor
ous birds. The number of locusts eaten by
prairie chickens and quails is perfectly
marvelous. For the destruction of hawks
and eagles there should be a reward offered
by the State. This would preserve many
of the birds ; and heavy fines imposed for
the destruction of birds, at any time of the
year, would work the rest.

As long as Colorado, Kansas, and Ne
braska, permit the unlimited slaughter of
these, their best friends and preservers,
they deserve to suffer from the devastation
of the locusts, or grasshoppers, as we call
them. Respectfully yours,

D. C. COLLIER.
CENTRAL CITY, COLOEADO, August 10, 1876.

750

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ACCIDENTAL VAKIATIOtf.
To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

THE following figures and description
show a somewhat interesting case of acci
dental variation :

The antlers are those of a common
deer (Cervus Virginianus). The buck
from which they were taken was about
five years old, and was shot by a gen
tleman of long and varied experience
as a hunter ; he thinks them quite
exceptional in shape.

FIG. 1.

In their dimensions and their great
width, as compared with thickness, they
show a strong resemblance to the palmatad
antlers of the caribou, or an approach to
the antlers of the elk.

Fig. 1 shows the position and curvature
of the antlers. As indicated, they differ
somewhat in outline, and the left one is
shorter and broader than the right.

Fig. 2 is a reduced sketch obtained by
tracing the outlines of the left antler on a
large sheet of paper, and then corrected by
careful measurements with calipers.

The measurements are :

Width from tip to tip 15f inches.

Length of exterior curvature from root

to tip ]gj. u

Directheight . . . . . . . . 14J "

Width at 1... IA

8.

4*
H
3
HI

n

FIG. 2.

Thickness at a.

/.

| inch.

* "
-I "

f "

A "

Girth at root of antler 5f inches.

" 2 5| "

"4... . 101 "

8

E. R. LELAND.

EATJCLAIKE, Wis., June 19, 1876.

WHO EKECTED STONEHENGE?
To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

WHEN a boy, the writer walked many
miles to visit Stonehenge. He was utterly
alone with these hoary ruins on that tree
less plain, and retains, after a third of a
century, a vivid reminiscence of the scene
and its suggestions.

The attribution of these remains to the

EDITOR S TABLE.

Druids always seemed to him quite as ab
surd as if a discoverer of the mounds of the
Mississippi Valley should credit them to
the medicine-men of the Indian tribes who
alone were found in their vicinity.

Neither Caesar nor any other ancient au
thor found in the Keltic population of Brit
ain any indication of either the skill or the
numerical force commensurate for such un
dertakings.

The vast slabs composing the circles of
Stonehenge are now, it is true, as they were
no doubt in Bede s time, shapeless, with one
notable exception.

Some of the slabs which have more re
cently, say within a thousand years, lost
their lintels exhibit the unique feature of
a duplex tenon, while the lintels show the

corresponding mortises. Xow this dove
tailing, so to speak, of masonry, shows
architectural skill and genius of a high
order immeasurably ahead of anything
the Kelts were capable of; nay, more, in
advance of even modern art in this depart-
ment. Further, the material of Stoneheuge
must have been transported many scores
of miles. A people so advanced as to mor
tise their masonry would scarcely have left
the exterior surfaces unchiseled.

The tenons were protected in their in
closing mortises, while the storms of, it may
be, two hundred centuries rasped off all
vestige of the pristine beauty of their exte
riors.

G. H. KNIGHT.

CINCINNATI, August 23, 18T6.

EDITOR S TABLE.

FURTHER COyCERNiyG THE "SOUND"
CONTROVERSY.

SOME months ago, as our readers
will remember, there appeared in
the Nation, by an anonymous writer,
a scandalous attack upon Prof. Tyndall.
He was accused of treating Prof. Henry
dishonorably; and the accusation was
so garnished with insulting insinuations
as to convey the impression that Prof.
Tyndall is not above ignoring and sup
pressing other people s valuable work
which he desires to profit by himself. It
was a matter of painful surprise to many
that any man could be found, in this
country, to make such charges on no
better grounds than were alleged against
an eminent and absent gentleman of
hitherto unsullied character ; or that any
respectable American newspaper would
lend itself to their publication. For
this was one of those palpable cases in
which some decisive weight should have
been allowed to character at the outset.
While on the one hand charges were
raised of which the proof was not fur
nished, and a specious case was made out
by unscrupulous ingenuity which was
calculated to mystify and prejudice or
dinary readers, on the other hand the

imputations against Prof. Tyndall were
specially contradicted and discredited
by the quality of his whole life. He
was eminently not the man to do the
things alleged. The intimate friend
and successor of Faraday, and for the
last twenty-five years Professor of ISTat-
ural Philosophy in the Eoyal Institu
tion of Great Britain, his life and works
have been in an eminent degree public
and conspicuous. An assiduous investi
gator in various branches of physics, he
has published freely in the Transactions
of the Royal Society ; a clear and vig
orous writer, appreciating the necessi
ty of improving popular scientific lit
erature, he has also written copiously
for the public, on many of the most re
cent and exciting questions of science.
Perhaps there is not another emi
nent man of science, in any country,
whose intellectual life has been more
open to scrutiny than that of Prof.
Tyndall. Yet with this prolonged and
intense exposure of his mental work to
a world sufficiently censorious and
though v often in sharp conflict with,
other investigators his reputation as
a man of the strictest honor in rela
tion to all the rights and claims of his

75 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

scientific co-laborers has been unques
tioned.

Moreover, those best acquainted
with Prof. Tyndall know that his soli
citude in doing justice to his scientific
brethren, as evinced in difficult circum
stances, is so earnest as to be almost
morbid. No man is freer from petty
jealousies, or the narrowing influence
of national bias, than he. Attaching a
serious meaning to the common senti
ment that " science is of no country,"
he has stemmed the violent currents
of local feeling in his own, and aimed
to be just and generous to foreigners
when their claims have been depreci
ated by British scientists. This is per
fectly understood by all who are famil
iar with recent scientific controversy.
His championship of the German May
er, the Savoyard Kendu, and the Amer
ican Agassiz, when their rights as
discoverers were denied by his own
countrymen, showed . the breadth of
his sympathies and the strength of his
sense of justice. Nor is it improper
here to add that he came to this coun
try to help on the work of science,
moved by no low or sordid considera
tions. He resisted social solicitations
in a way that was not a little misinter
preted, that he might do the work he
had undertaken in the best manner ;
and contributed all that he got from
half a year s hard labor to assist in the
scientific education of worthy young
men of this country for whose special
aid there had been, hitherto, no provi
sion.

We submit that these consider
ations should have been sufficient to
protect Prof. Tyndall from the gross
assault in the Nation, which could not
be replied to until a sensation-seek
ing press had scattered the calumnious
charges from one end of the country to
the other. Something, we say again,
was due to character, that should have
prevented the diffusion of such asper
sions until they had been thoroughly
looked into, and the party most con
cerned had been consulted. We appeal

to every candid reader, if it would not
have been a fairer proceeding for the
editor to have sent the article to Prof.
Tyndall, if he thought it worth atten
tion, and to have asked him what it
meant, that the defense might have
accompanied the attack, had he still
thought the matter proper for publica
tion.

The case has now assumed a differ
ent aspect. The anonymous writer in
the Nation has recently rehashed and
amplified his statement, put his name
to it, and published it in the New York
Tribune. It is noteworthy that, while
the writer announces himself to have
been an assistant of Prof. Henry, he
recognizes the necessity of disavowing
all complicity on the part of that gen
tleman in these assaults upon Tyndall.
It would have been well if this had
been thought of a little earlier ; and
there is no reason for the disclaimer
now that should not have impelled
Prof. Henry to protect himself from
misapprehension, by following the pub
lication of the article in the Nation by
a prompt statement of the fact that he
had nothing whatever to do with it.

With the larger portion of the com
munication to the Tribune we have no
concern, as its four closely-printed col
umns are chiefly occupied in trumping
up new and petty imputations against
Prof. Tyndall that are wholly unworthy
of notice. Borrowing a hint from the
tactics of our political canvass, the
writer seems to think that the way to
substantiate one charge is to pile up
more. But the case, as now even more
fully presented, has not a leg to stand
upon. In fact, the writer has put an
end to it himself by attempting to give
his proofs. We have said that the arti
cle in the Nation made charges without
giving the evidence ; that evidence is
now forthcoming, and, as we shall see,
instead of sustaining, refutes the charges
and explodes the case.

Prof. Tyndall had said in his book

on " Sound " that Dr. Derham s paper,

I published in 1T08, and which contains

EDITOR S TABLE.

753

the views which have generally pre
vailed upon the subject since, "marks
the latest systematic inquiry into the
causes which affect the intensity of sound
in the atmosphere," up to the time of his
own investigations in 1873. This peri
od he characterizes as a ~blank. He does
not deny that facts of importance had
been observed in the interval, or that
partial inquiries had been made leading
to valuable conclusions ; but the " blank "
is declared to consist in the absence of
any " systematic inquiry into causes,"
such, of course, as generally lead, when
ably conducted, to the reconciliation of
conflicting views, and the establishment
of principles which are entitled to take
their place in the body of scientific
knowledge. To this the writer in the
Nation replied that Prof. Henry had
made such systematic inquiries, and that
Prof. Tyndall knew it from a paper
which he heard Prof. Henry read in
Washington. The evidence of the
charges against Prof. Tyndall of "ig
noring " or " suppressing " the work of
Henry, or of taking advantage of it in
his own subsequent investigation, is,
therefore, to be found in this paper,
if anywhere. The writer of the arti
cle in the Nation did not adduce the
article, although his whole case rested
upon it. Challenged for his evidence,
he now brings it forward in the Tribune,
makes extracts from it, and states what
else it contained ; and we now give his
whole reference to it, italics and all :

" Prof. Henry prefaced his paper on that
occasion with the following reference to Dr.
Tyndall s presence : The communication
which I propose to make this evening is
brought forward at this time especially on
account of the presence of Dr. Tyndall, he
being connected with the lighthouse system
of Great Britain, while the facts I have to
state are connected with the lighthouse ser
vice of the United States, and must there
fore be of interest to our distinguished vis
itor. The facts I have to present form part
of a general report to be published by the
United States Lighthouse Board.

u After briefly treating on the prevalence
of fogs upon the American coast, Prof.

VOL. ix. 48

Henry proceeded to consider their scientific
relations to fog-signaling, and remarked as
follows :

" In studying this subject it becomes a
question of importance to ascertain whether
waves of sound, like those of light, are ab
sorbed or stifled by fog ; on this point, how
ever, observers disagree. At first sight,
from the very striking analogy which exists
in many respects between light and sound,
the opinion has largely prevailed that sound
is impeded by fog. But those who have
not been influenced by this analogy have in
some instances adopted the opposite opinion
that sound is better heard during a fog than
in clear weather. To settle this question
definitely the Lighthouse Board have di
rected that at two lighthouses on the route
from Boston to St. Johns the fog-signals
shall be sounded every day on which the
steamboats from these ports pass the station,
both in clear and foggy weather, the pilots
on board these vessels having, for a small
gratuity, engaged to note the actual distance
of the boat when the sound is first heard on
approaching the signal, and is last heard on
receding from it. The boats above men
tioned estimate their distance with consid
erable precision by the number of revolu
tions of the paddle-wheel, as recorded by
the indicator of the engine, and it is hoped
by this means to definitely decide the point
in question. We think it highly probable
that fog does somewhat diminish the pene
trating power of sound, or, in other words,
produce an effect analogous to the propaga
tion of light. But when we consider the
extreme minuteness of the particles of water
constituting the fog, as compared with the
magnitude of the waves of sound, the analo
gy does not hold except in so small a degree
as to be of no practical importance, or, in
other words, the existence of fog is a true,
but, we think, an insufficient, cause of dimi
nution of sound, which view is borne out by
the great distance at which our signals are
heard during a dense fog. Another cause,
which without doubt is a true one, of the
diminution of the penetrating power of sound
is the varying density of the atmosphere,
from heat and moisture, in long distances.
The effect of this, however, would apparently
be to slightly distort the wave of sound
rather than to obliterate it. However this
may be, we think, from all the observations
we have made, the effect is small in comparir-
son with another cause, viz. , that of the influ
ence of WIND. During a residence of several
weeks at the sea-shore, the sound of the
breakers at a distance of about a mile in no

754

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

case appeared to be coincident with the va
riations of an aneroid barometer or a ther
mometer, but in every instance it was affect
ed by the direction of the wind. The va
riation in the distinctness of the sound of a
distant instrument as depending on the di
rection of the wind is so marked that we are
warranted in considering it the principal
cause of the inefficiency in certain cases of the
most powerful fog-signals.

" In the remainder of his paper, as read
in the presence of Prof. Tyndall, the chair
man of the Lighthouse Board applied the
hypothesis of Prof. Stokes to an explanation
of certain abnormal phenomena of sound
which had been observed during the course
of his systematic inquiries with regard to
the causes which affect the intensity of
sound."

The reader now has the whole case
before him. This is the substance of
what Prof. Tyndall listened to in Wash
ington, and for not recognizing which,
to the credit of American science, in his
hook on sound, he has been the subject
of a bitter and persistent newspaper
attack. Prof. Tyndall says that the
reading of the document left him in
mental perplexity, and we are certainly
not surprised at his state of mind. The
subject, it is to be remembered, was not
new to him. He had been for years
engaged in the scientific service of the
English Lighthouse Department; he
had been an explorer in the field of
acoustics, and was familiar with the
history of the subject. He knew that
it was involved in obscurity, that ob
servations disagreed, and that there was
much theoretical conflict about it. Noth
ing seemed established, and he states
that Prof. Henry s paper left him still
in an intellectual fog in regard to the
whole question. The reader will see
that the statement is pervaded by doubt.
Conflicting opinions are given, and the
prominent question was yet to be de
cided by the aid of Boston pilots. Fi
nally, a conjecture, thrown out by an
English physicist, is invoked for the ex
planation of anomalous effects observed.
Clearly it was a case for further and for
midable work which required to be met

by a comprehensive, systematic, and
thorough-going research. Prof. Hen
ry s paper settled nothing. That it
was without value as a contribution to
science, we by no means assert; hut
every one can see that it was not the
product of a full, methodical, and ex
haustive inquiry, such as the subject
urgently demanded and had not yet re
ceived from any source. The observa
tions of Humboldt, early in the cen
tury, on the passage of sound, were im
portant, as Prof. Tyndall himself attests,
but to characterize them as a " system
atic inquiry into the causes which af
fect the intensity of sound in the
atmosphere " is simply absurd. Hum
boldt confined himself to one branch
of the investigation, and w^hole tracts
of it he did not touch.

Prof. Tyndall was, therefore, abun
dantly justified in assuming that the
blank of 167 years had not been
filled up ; and, being deeply interested
in the subject, and having command of
the means for an elaborate course of
researches upon it, he determined to
enter fully into the inquiry, with the
hope of dispelling some of the uncer
tainty which clouded it.

He took up the question from a pure
ly scientific point of view, not to im
prove the art of fog-signaling or arrive
at any immediate practical results valu
able to the navigator, but simply to test
theories, explain phenomena, harmo
nize discrepancies, and advance acous
tical science. He attacked the problem
of the "causes" which affect the in
tensity of sound in the air with a sin-
gle-mindedness, a rigor of method, and
a completeness of resources, that had
never before been employed upon it.
His researches went on in a double
series, on the coast and in the labora
tory. Using the facilities furnished by
the Government at home, and sending
abroad for the best that could be sup
plied, he carried on his observations and
experiments on a large scale from the
South Foreland Station, scrutinizing

EDITOR S TABLE.

755

and testing the various views and sug
gestions that had been proposed, and
arriving at new and important conclu
sions in regard to the causes of which
he was in search. He then subjected
these conclusions to elaborate experi
mental verification by newly-devised ap
paratus, and original researches in the
Royal Institution, with the attainment
of results which will probably take
their permanent place among the prin
ciples of acoustical science. At any
rate, the subject, with its accumulated
difficulties, had never before received
so efficient a sifting and overhauling ;
and it was this that Prof. Tyndall meant,
and had a right to mean, by the phrase
"systematic inquiry into causes," in
which he characterized his work. The
writer in the Tribune can entertain his
own views as to what that phrase sig
nifies in dealing with the phenomena
of Nature, but Prof. Tyndall will be
perfectly easy in leaving this matter
to the judgment of scientific men.

THE AMERICAN ASSOCIATION AT BUF
FALO.

THE meeting of the American Asso
ciation for the Advancement of Science,
which began August 23d and lasted a
week, has been unusually successful.
There was a strong attendance of mem
bers, and a greater number than at any
previous session of foreigners distin
guished in science. A large number of
papers were contributed to the proceed
ings, several of them important and of
marked originality. Prof. Rogers pre
sided with characteristic dignity and
grace, and the retiring president, Prof.
Hilgard, gave an instructive address,
devoted mainly to his own department
of study, and giving a sketch of the
progress of the scientific measurements
and mapping of the earth.

And the meeting was a success so
cially as well as scientifically. The cit
izens of Buffalo extended their hospi
tality in the most liberal manner to

members and visitors, and the local
committee made efficient arrangements
for the accommodation of all who de
sired it. There were the usual recep
tions, which were largely attended and
much enjoyed. It is given to but few
places to favor their guests with so pleas
ant a treat as a day at Niagara Falls.

The Buffalo people owe their best
thanks to Mr. Secretary Grote, of their
young Academy of Sciences, for his
efficient agency in securing the meeting
to their town on this memorable year,
as Philadelphia was a powerful rival for
the honor. It is through this little sci
entific society, which has had to strug
gle on with insufficient means, sustained
by a few who were heartily interested,
that the citizens of Buffalo have been
roused to invite the convention and to
extend to its members so cordial a wel
come. We hope that the stimulus thus
given to the public interest in scientific
subjects will bear permanent fruit and
result in establishing the Buffalo Acad
emy upon a liberal and permanent foun
dation.

But, while Buffalo has done its duty
admirably toward the Association, has
the Association in turn done its duty to
Buffalo? Is duty in such a case a
wholly one-sided thing, or are men of
science such lions that they pay off
their hosts by their bare presence ? We
do not suppose that the hospitable
Buffalonians had an eye to what was to
be got back from their guests, but obli
gations were nevertheless incurred, and
it is proper to inquire how they were
met. The citizens of that town, having
no experience, did as those of other
towns always do on these occasions
promised themselves great pleasure in
attending the sessions of the Associa
tion. They drifted in freely at the
opening meetings, but, after being pep
pered for an hour with unintelligible
terms, they generally withdrew in a
quiet way, and with their ardor cooled
for discussions that could but little in
terest people at large.

756

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The obvious logic of the case must
have been that, although this scientific
convocation was occupied with its own
avowed and proper business, yet so far
as ordinary outside folks were con
cerned it was something of a "sell."
Now, we venture to think that this is
all wrong, and if the American Asso
ciation for the Advancement of Science
were more liberally managed, it would
recognize an important duty that it
owes the public in each city where it is
invited to hold its sessions. Granting
that its strict and special aim is the ad
vancement of science by original con
tributions to its various branches, and
that its proper work is necessarily tech
nical, and to be carried on in the little
meetings of the scientists themselves,
it is nevertheless true that there is a
side of science in which the public is
deeply concerned, and such a body as
this, which goes annually from city to
city, and has a great power of influenc
ing the people for good, has no right
to ignore its responsibility. The peo
ple are constantly appealed to by sci
entific men to give their money, while
they live and when they die, for carry
ing on scientific investigations that are
necessarily and largely expensive. Sci
entific men, in fact, must depend upon
the public, and be supported by it.
They, therefore, incur obligations, and
cannot escape them. If science is a
beneficent agency for all, if scientific
truth requires to be diffused that every
grade of society may reap its benefits
in some form, then men of science, who
have the knowledge and the capacity
to present it in familiar and popular
forms, are bound to do what they can
according to their gifts and opportu
nities to promote these objects. The
American Scientific Association, every
time it enters a new city to hold its
meeting, should contribute something
useful and valuable for the instruction
and enlightenment of all classes. It is
a peculiar opportunity which should
not be thrown away, and there are

always men present competent to do
the work, and who would cheerfully
enter into it if it were a part of the
regular arrangements of the Associa
tion. The British Association has done
its duty in this respect for years. It
has provided for the delivery of outside
lectures, popular lectures, lectures to
working-men given to the people in
large halls, by the best talent of the
body, and such gentlemen as Carpen
ter, Tyndall, Spottiswoode, Frankland,
Huxley, Koscoe, and others, have not
hesitated to do their share of the work
when called upon. Notwithstanding
all our talk of progress and the educa
tion of the people, the old monarchical
and aristocratic country is far ahead
of us in these matters. The American
Association seems strangely indifferent
to this aspect of its usefulness. It
shirks its palpable duty in giving im
pulse and direction to general scientific
education, and this omission to provide
instructive lectures for the people at
its yearly meetings seems further to
show that it cares nothing about sci
entific teaching in any shape for public
purposes.

THE AIR IN COURTS OF JUSTICE.

JUDGE MONELL is dead ; and we are
informed he died of the foul air of the
court-rooms in which he had officiated.
Why should court-rooms poison those
who frequent them, like Calcutta Black-
Holes? We have not been often in
such places, but we were never in a
court-room yet that we did not think
a fit subject for the action of the grand -
jury as an indictable nuisance from its
bad ventilation. Lawyers seem to be
a good deal behind the age in the ap
preciation of pure air. When the
chemists have gone to different places
after samples of foul air, they general
ly report the worst from court-rooms.
The way these are constituted for
breathing-purposes is an excellent ex
ample of the way things are generally

EDITOR S TABLE.

757

done by Government. Court-houses
are built by the State, and usually with
a large regardlessness of expense. But
they are the work of architects, and are
constructed more for external ornament
than internal use. They please the eye
of the passer with their stateliness, and
asphyxiate the judges within. Money
is profusely spent, and the building un
fit to be used. And so with all places
where politicians congregate, and Gov
ernment provides the edifice. There
came a wail from Washington during
the last session that our Congress
men were being stifled by the bad ven
tilation of the House of Representa
tives. Millions upon millions have been
put into the structure, and the whole
world is called upon to come and ad
mire its grand proportions and impos
ing effect, while the legislators within
are being suffocated. The best Govern
ment in the world strangles its law
givers with inephitic gases instead of
allowing them to breathe pure air.
But, before sickness and death can
come by poisonous inhalations, there
are stages of atmospheric deterioration
in which the mind only is affected.
The brain, the immediate instrument
of thought and feeling, receives and
requires the largest proportion of pure
arterialized blood of any portion of the
body. This is necessary to its functions,
so that we cannot think, remember,
compare, reason, and judge well, ex
cept in pure air, which maintains the
mind s organ in its highest vigor and
keenest action. Long before judges die
and Congressmen take sick they must
pass through this stage of cerebral de
pression, blunting of the sensibilities,
and perversion and deadening of the
mental operations. How much of the
stupidity of legislation and the miscar
riage of its judicial application may be
due to the muddled brains of law
makers and judges from breathing the
pestilential air of legislative halls and
courts of justice, it may be impossible
to tell, but the inquiry is suggestive. It-

is also pertinent to ask, What sort of
education can these parties have had,
to submit to these conditions, even to
the destruction of health and life t

THE "CONFLICT*^ AND THE " WAR
FARE."

THE anxiety with which historic
works on the relations of science and
religion are now sought is a fact of
special interest, and we think it a salu
tary symptom of the state of the public
mind. Science has opened the ques
tion, and the world is taking hold of it
in earnest. " The History of the Con
flict between Religion and Science, 1 by
Dr. Draper, while being most vigorous
ly pooh-poohed by those who did not
like it, has steadily made its way,
through translation, into nearly all the
Continental countries, and is at last so
loudly called for even in benighted
I Spain that two editions of it by rival
publishers are reported as having ap
peared in Madrid. What possible or
conceivable hope is there that religion
and science in that country can ever be
brought into genuine amity until there
is first an intelligent recognition ol
what have been their past relations ?
President White s brief but telling
sketch of "The Warfare of Science,"
though first widely circulated in the
pages of this magazine, had to be re
printed, and in a few weeks has reached
a third edition in this country, while it
has been republished in England, and
will undoubtedly be translated, as it
deserves to be, into the chief European
tongues. The merit of these works, and
the secret of their success, are not more
due to the ability with which they have
been prepared, or the manly and fear
less tone with which they discuss ques
tions of the gravest importance, than
to their opportune appearance and
adaptation to the wants of a rapid iy-
widening audience of thinking people
in all countries. War-literature is al
ways popular, but it is beginning to be

758

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

seen that there are wars of opinion and
conflicts of ideas carried on in the in
tellectual world which have at least an
equal interest with the narratives of
military campaigns and the records of
carnage on fields of battle.

IT is but an act of justice to Dr.
Deems, of this city, to state that he re
plied to the article of Mr. Boyd in the
June MONTHLY, entitled " Science and
the Logicians." We were compelled to
decline publishing the reply to cut off a
controversy that would have consumed
more space than we can allow to such
discussions.

LITERARY NOTICES.

THE FIVE SENSES OF MAN. By JULIUS
BERNSTEIN, Professor of Physiology in
the University of Halle. With Numer
ous Illustrations. No. XXI. of the " In
ternational Scientific Series." Pp. 304.

THE work intrusted to the accomplished
Professor of Physiology at Halle, Dr. Bern
stein, has been admirably performed. Aware
of the importance of his undertaking, and
that his work would promptly reappear in
all civilized countries, the author has taken
his time, and produced a volume second to
none in the series to which it belongs, and
which will be valued as an able and perma
nent contribution to physiological literature.
Many works have appeared upon this gen
eral subject, of varied merit, but they have
generally been more anatomical than physi
ological, and have dealt rather with the
mechanism of sensation than with its pro
cesses and philosophy. Prof. Wilson s
book, published several years ago, was a
pleasant piece of rhetorical work, but whol
ly inadequate as a scientific discussion of
the subject, even at that time. Dr. Bern-
stein has taken up the problem of the
senses of man from the latest point of view
reached by physiology and psychology, and,
while very full and clear in his description
of the instruments and apparatus of sensa
tion, the strength of his book and its more

especial claim to attention will be found in
the lucid analysis which he gives of what
may be called the psychical aspect of sense-
activity. He views the senses as the bio
logical gateways where impressions from
the external world pass into the organism,
and are transformed, through the wonderful
endowments of the nervous system, into
consciousness in the mental sphere. This
is unquestionably the profoundest mystery
in the realm of life, and the ultimate how
of this transformation will probably forever
remain one of Nature s impenetrable secrets.
But all ultimate explanations are beyond
the grasp of science, which completes its
work when it has analyzed and established
the conditions of phenomena. No doubt it
would be interesting to solve the ultimate
problems of Nature, were such a thing pos
sible to the human mind, but it is only of
importance to find out that which is capable
of being known. Even this field is inex
haustible, and whatever explanation may be
reached we are never certain that a deeper
explanation is not still attainable. In this
matter of the nature and operation of the
senses great progress has recently been
made, and physics, chemistry, physiology,
histology, and psychology, have all con
tributed their separate rays to the illumina
tion of the subject. Many points are un
settled, and many perplexities and obscuri
ties remain to be cleared up ; but there has
still been an immense amount of efficient
and successful work of research that re
quired to be digested by some master-hand
so as to be available for the common reader
who has no time to master elaborate scien
tific treatises. It was not an easy thing to
find a man competent, interested, and will
ing to undertake this task ; but it fortu
nately fell into the right hands. Dr. Bern
stein has proved himself to be not only pos
sessed of the requisite knowledge, but to be
an adept in the art of presenting it, as will
be seen by the extract from his work given
in the present number of the MONTHLY.
He had a reputaion as a clear and skillful
writer, which the present volume will en
hance; while the translation does him jus
tice, and presents his exposition in an at
tractive English form. This volume is one
that might be well adopted as a text-book
for our schools.

LITERARY NOTICES.

759

SIMILARITIES OF PHYSICAL AND RELIGIOUS
KNOWLEDGE. By JAMES THOMPSON Bix-
BV. Pp. 266. New York : D. Appleton
Co. Price, $1.50.
OUR readers will be interested in the ar
ticle on " Religion and Science as Allies," by
Mr. J. T. Bixby. This gentleman is author
of the volume under the foregoing title a
work written in a liberal spirit, with much
discrimination and judicial fairness, and
which aims to get down to the radical har
monies of religion and science. There is a
steadily-deepening interest in the thinking
world on the question of the relations of
these two subjects which relates to both
their analytical and historical aspects. Mr.
Bixby s book-is one of the best representa
tives of a large class of works that are
devoted to working out the fundamental
relations of science and religion. The in
quiry goes deep, and still involves the most
radical disagreements among thinkers of
different schools. Partial views must still
be expected while thinkers remain parti
sans, for current scholarship is not yet
broad enough to deal with a problem so
comprehensive in a thoroughly synthetic
and unifying way. But there is compensa
tion from the number of earnest and vigor
ous minds that are taking it up on its vari
ous sides, and, from the thorough sifting
which the subject will thus receive, we may
expect a wider agreement and more pacific
relations among the parties interested. The
present work is written in the interest of
peace, but the author does not shirk its
difficulties, and is aware how large must
be the mutual concessions before lasting
concord can be gained. He is an indepen
dent thinker, who has studied carefully the
later products of scientific literature, and
treats them with marked critical ability.
The volume is full of instruction, well pre
sented, and we cordially recommend it to
readers interested in this line of inquiry.

THE SCIENTIFIC BASKS OF FAITH. By JO
SEPH JOHN MCRPHY, author of " Habit
and Intelligence." Pp. xliv-474. 8vo.
London: Macmillan & Co. 1873. Price
$5.00.

WE regard this work as of unusual in
terest and value, and taken in connection
with its predecessor, "Habit and Intelli
gence," it should be welcomed by those

who desire a more harmonious adjustment
of the relations among the thinkers and
believers (often coexistent hi the same per
son) of the present time. It is an attempt
to " harmonize Scripture with science,"
that is say, to " try by how little distortion
of the sense of Scripture, and by how little
misrepresentation of the facts of science,
the narratives of the Old Testament may
be made to coincide with the facts disclosed
by scientific research." Through twenty-
nine chapters, with an " introduction " and
a " conclusion," Mr. Murphy discusses such
subjects as the relations of " Metaphysical
and Positive Philosophy," " The Metaphys
ical Interpretation of Nature," " The Bases
of Knowledge," " The Limits of our Knowl
edge," u The Proof of Deity from Intelli
gence and Design," u The Structure of the
Universe," " Nature and the Religious
Sense," " Immortality," " The Relation of
History to Religion."

The author is, we believe, a clergyman
of the lately disestablished Church of Ire
land, and his views of Scripture inspiration
and interpretation may fairly be called
broad," as that word is now understood
in the English Church ; but we rarely find
a man who seems more reverent in spirit :
courteous, critical, and fair, he is worthy
of a patient, candid hearing, alike from
those who hold very " conservative " views
of the Bible and of orthodoxy on the one
hand, and on the other from those who are
inclined to think that the " age of faith v
has passed away before the more certain and
substantial things of the " age of science."
Mr. Murphy asserts it to be " as certain
as history and philosophy can make it that
science is absolutely independent of theol
ogy ; " yet he insists that science and faith
are closely related, and that no treaty of
peace can be established on the assumption
that they have nothing to do with each
other. His view of -their mutual relation is
illustrated by reference to that between
matter and life, and life and mind, life pre
supposing matter as its basis, mind presup
posing life as its basis. So science (using the
word in its largest meaning and applica
tion) is presupposed as the basis of religion,
which he believes will ultimately be recog
nized as the summit and crown of all knowl
edge.

760

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

His plea for the validity and value of
consciousness as a base of knowledge, and
his demand for a place for the metaphysical
method coordinate with the inductive, are
suggestive and able. Belief in the past,
trust in the reality of memory, in personal
identity, in the uniformity of the order of
Nature, and in an external world, is meta
physical is made known by consciousness
only, and is of the nature of faith.

We are reminded here from time to
time, as we read, of Bixby s lately-published
work on " Similarities of Physical and Re-
ligious Knowledge," but we have no space
to attempt even an approach to a complete
synopsis of the work, and must commend
it to the personal examination of those in
terested.

HAY-FEVER ; OR, SUMMER CATARRH : its Na
ture and Treatment : Including the Early
Form, or " Rose Cold ; " the Later Form,
or "Autumnal Catarrh;" and a Middle
Form, or "July" Cold," hitherto unde-
scribed; based on Original Researches
and Observations, and containing Sta
tistics and Details of Several Hundred
Cases. By GEO. M. BEARD, A. M., M. D.,
Fellow of the New York Academy of
Medicine, etc. New York: Harpers.
Pp. 266. Price, $2.00.

THIS is a painstaking book, that will
hardly fail to prove instructive to the class
of sufferers for whose benefit it has been
prepared. Dr. Beard has supplemented his
medical observations and experience of the
disease, which he says is incorrectly termed
" Hay-Fever," by an extensive series of in
quiries put to patients in regard to numer
ous facts which it seemed impossible to get
in any other way. He sent a circular con
taining fifty-five questions to a large num
ber of persons, and received reports of some
two hundred cases, giving much valuable
information; and this, with his considerable
personal practice, is made the basis of his
treatment of the subject. In regard to the
nature of the malady, he observes in the
preface :

" The theory taught in this book, that
this disease is a complex resultant of a
nervous system especially sensitive in this
direction, acted upon by the enervating in
fluence of heat, and by one or several of a
large number of vegetable and other irri
tants, has the advantage over other theories

that it accounts for all the phenomena ex
hibited by the disease in this or in any
Other country.

" The transmissibility of the disease from
parents to children; the temperaments of
the subjects ; the capricious interchanging
of the early, the middle, and the later forms ;
the periodicity and persistence of the at
tacks, and their paroxysmal character; the
points of resemblance between the symp
toms and those of ordinary asthma ; the
strange idiosyncrasies of different individ
uals in relation to the different irritants;
the fact that it is a modern disease, peculiar
to civilization ; the fact that it abounds
where functional nervous disorders are most
frequent, and is apparently on the increase
pari passu with other nervous diseases;
and, finally, the fact that it is best relieved
by those remedies that act on the nervous
system all these otherwise opposing and
inconsistent phenomena are by this hypoth
esis fully harmonized. Those, however, who
are unwilling to accept this interpretation
will in this work find a resume that is meant
to be both impartial and exhaustive of other
theories, and of all known facts relating to
this affection, wherever observed. . . . Bear
ing in mind that this work will find its read,
ers mostly among the laity, and chiefly
among the sufferers from the disease, the
aim has been to avoid, so far as might be,
purely technical words and phrases, and,
while keeping strictly within the limits of
science, to bring every point within the com
prehension of those who know little or
nothing of medicine, save what has been
wrought into them by their own painful ex
periences with this distressing malady."

REPORT ON THE HYGIENE OP THE UNITED
STATES ARMY, WITH DESCRIPTIONS OP
MILITARY POSTS. By JOHN S. BILLINGS,
Assistant Surgeon, U. S. A. Washing
ton : Government Printing-Office. 1875.
Pp. 567.

THE author begins his report with an
allusion to the difficulty experienced by
army medical men in getting their recom
mendations on sanitary matters attended to
by the officers in charge of the posts, and
follows this with the order of 1874, defin
ing the duties of the medical officer so far
as they relate to the hygienic management
of the soldiers. This order seems broad

LITERARY NOTICES.

76!

enough for all practical purposes, and, could
the officers be got to cooperate in carrying
out its provisions, the result would undoubt
edly be a material lessening of disease and
mortality in the army. But, as now man
aged, both disease and mortality are largely
in excess of what they should be. From a j
table showing the ratio per thousand of
mortality in the United States Army as
compared with the mortality of males be
tween twenty and forty years of age in civil
life, it appears that the death-rate from
disease among the soldiers is from twice to
three times as great per thousand as among
civilians. The author ascribes this partly
to the character of the food, which is often
deficient in fresh vegetables, but mainly to
the habitations in which the soldiers are
obliged to live. In many instances these are :
without provision for ventilation, are often
much overcrowded, and are rarely furnished
with adequate appliances for bathing and
the maintenance of cleanliness of person.
In the matters of clothing and hospital ser
vice the author considers the troops gener
ally well provided for. The bulk of the re
port is taken up with descriptions of mili
tary posts, furnished by different members
of the army medical corps.

EIGHTH ANNUAL REPORT ON THE Noxious,
BENEFICIAL, AND OTHER INSECTS OF MIS
SOURI. By C. V. RILEY, State Entomol
ogist. Pp. 196. Jefferson City : Regan
& Carter print.

THE noxious insects considered in this
volume are the Colorado potato-beetle, can
ker-worm, army-worm, Rocky Mountain
locust, and the grape phylloxera. One in
noxious insect, the yucca-borer, is treated
of. The loss sustained in the State of Mis
souri in 1875 from injury done to grains
alone by the Rocky Mountain locust is esti
mated by Prof. Riley at $15,000,000. Ac
cordingly, we are not surprised that the
greater part of the annual report should be
devoted to this insect. Several interesting
questions regarding the natural history of
the locust are discussed, such as its trans
formations, the habits of the unfledged lo
custs, the directions in which the young lo
custs travel, etc. It has been asserted that
young locusts are led in their marches by
" kings " or "queens," but this Prof. Riley
declares to be an error. " Certain large lo

custs," he writes, belonging to the genera
Acridinia and (Edipus hibernate in the
full-grown, winged state, and not in the egg-
state, like the Rocky Mountain species al
ways with us ; their presence was simply
more manifest last spring, when the face 01
the earth was bare. Hopping with the
others, or falling into ditches with them,
they gave rise to this false notion, and it is
an interesting fact, as showing how the
same circumstances at times give rise to
similar erroneous ideas in widely-separate
parts of the world, that the same idea pre
vails in parts of Europe and Asia."

THE GEOLOGICAL AGENCY OF LATERAL PRESS
URE EXHIBITED BY CERTAIN MoVEMENTb

OF ROCKS. By W. H. NILES. Pp. 15.
Boston : Kingman print.

PROF. XILES has studied, in five different
localities, the evidences proving the con
tinued action of the lateral pressure occa
sioned by the earth s contraction. His gen
eral conclusions are 1. That the rock at
these localities has been brought into a
compressed condition by a powerful lateral
pressure, acting only in a northerly and
southerly direction ; and, 2. That, when op
portunity is presented, the compressed rock
expands with great energy.

GEOGRAPHICAL VARIATION AMONG NORTH
AMERICAN MAMMALS. Also, Sexual, In
dividual, and Geographical Variation in
Leucosticte tephrocotis. By J. A. ALLEN.
Pp. 41. Washington : Government
Printing-Office.

MR. ALLEN finds the variation in size,
with latitude, to be surprisingly great in
wolves and foxes, amounting in some spe
cies to twenty-five per cent, of the average
size of the species, while in other species
of the Ferae, it is almost nil. Contrary to
the general impression, the variation in size
among representatives of the same species
is not always a decrease with the decrease
of the latitude of the locality, but is in
some cases exactly the reverse.

TRANSACTIONS OF THE KANSAS STATE HOR
TICULTURAL SOCIETY (1875). Pp. 277.
Topeka : G. \V. Martin print.

THE State Horticultural Society of Kan-
I sas appears to be a very industrious and
efficient body. Two meetings were held
during the year 1875, and the proceedings

7 62

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

are here fully reported. An important feat
ure of the volume before us is the reports
of the county vice-presidents. These officers
are charged with the duty of organizing
local horticultural societies, and of report
ing annually to the society upon horticultu
ral matters in their localities.

THE CONSTANTS OP NATURE. By F. W.
CLARKE, S. B. Washiugton : The Smith
sonian Institution.

IN 1873 the Smithsonian Institution
published Part I. of the above-named work,
and we have now before us Parts II. and
III., as also a first supplement to Part I.
In this first part are given tables of specific
gravities, boiling-points, and melting-point?.
Part II. is a table of specific heats for
solids and liquids, and Part III. gives tables
of expansion by heat for solids and liquids.
In compiling these tables Prof. Clarke has
expended a vast amount of labor a labor
of love, inasmuch as his services are ren
dered gratuitously.

ARCHIVOS DO MUSEU NACIONAL DO Rio DE
JANEIRO. Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa
Industrial. Pp. 30, quarto, with Plates.

THE Archives is published quarterly,
and is the organ of the National Museum of
Brazil. Its first object is to give an ac
count of the contributions to science made
by that institution, but it will also from
time to time contain essays on scientific
subjects from other sources. In the pres
ent number (which is the first) there are
three articles, viz. : " Studies of the Shell-
heaps (Sambaquis) of Southern Brazil," by
Carlos Wiener; "On Some Tangas" (well
translated "fig-leaves" in the Nation] " of
Baked Clay used by the Ancient Inhabitants
of the Island of Marajo," by Cli. Fred.
Hartt ; and " Studies upon the Morphologi
cal Evolution of the Tissues in Sarmentose
Caules," by Ladislau Netto.

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Elements of Latin Grammar. By G.
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Forest Culture and Eucalyptus-Trees.
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Exploring Expedition from Santa Fe to
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$1.25.

The Ultimate Generalization. Pp. 56.
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Chorea. By G. T. Stevens, M. D. Pp.
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The Study of Music. By E. B. Oliver.
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Plastic Dressing in Fractures of Lower
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Guide to the Museum of the Academy of
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Report on the Retreat for the Insane.
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Cast-Steel Works of Frederick Krupp.
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English Grammar. By S. W. Whitney,
A. M. Pp. 160. New York : Schermerhorn.

On Life. By E. C. Seaman. Pp. 15.

MISCELLANY.

763

Report on the State Lunatic Asylum.
Pp. 72. Albany : Weed, Parsons & Co.
print.

American Shakespeare Bibliography.
By K. Knortz. Pp. 16. Boston: Schoen-
kof & Moeller.

The State and Primary Education. By
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Animal Resources of the United States.
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Human Rights and the Natural Laws of
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Philadelphia : The Author.

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Development of Anterior Brain-Mass in
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Imports and Exports of the United
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Congressional Directory. Pp. 152.
Washington : Government Printing-Office.

Catalogue of Red Double Stars. By S.
W. Burnham. Pp. 8. Chicago.

Geological Survey of Minnesota. By
N.H. Winchell. Pp.162. With Maps. St.

Paul : Pioneer Press print.

f

Insects and Plants. By T. Meehan.
Pp. 9. Salem (Mass.) : Press print.

A Village of Cottage Hospitals. Pp. 47.
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The Textile Colorist. Monthly. New
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MISCELLANY.

A Preliminary Note on Ulenopoma Al-
Icghaniense of Hnrlan. At the Buffalo
meeting of the American Association for
the Advancement of Science, Prof. A. R.
Grote read a paper with the above title on

the Menopoma, an aquatic salamander, with
soft, leathery, scaleless skin, inhabiting the
tributaries of the Mississippi River. After
the examination of a large number of spe
cimens, the characters separating the spe
cies Menopoma Alleghaniense and fuscum,
as recently accepted by Cope, were found
inconstant, and Grote comes to the conclu
sion that " there is only one and not two
species inhabiting the water-shed of the
Mississippi." After watching the habits of
the animals in the aquarium, Grote suc
ceeded in ascertaining the fact that the out
er layer of the skin is shed as in snakes
and toads, and is, in some cases at least,
swallowed by the animal, since it was in
one instance taken out of the mouth of the
specimen. Grote succeeded in obtaining
eggs laid on August 30th, and draws atten
tion to the fact that the Menopoma puts on
a " marriage-dress " during this period of
its life, the tail broadening, and a plaited
extension of the skin appearing along the
sides of the body. The habits of the Me-
nopoma seem to be nocturnal, and its eggs
are laid along the muddy banks of the
streams it frequents. The egg contains a
yolk about the size of a pea floating in a
glairy white fluid, surrounded by a mem
brane like that enveloping the albumen in
a bird s-egg, and taking in a certain amount
of water by endosmosis.

Insect Parasites in Muddy Trout-Fonds.

In the fall of 1873 the owner of a pond
near Amsterdam, in this State, put into the
pond some yearling trout. About the mid
dle of last July a few dead fish were seen
floating upon the water. On the tail of one
of these dead fish was found " a very curi
ous green bug, about the size of a pumpkin-
seed ; long legs, red eyes, and a long sting
er." Hereupon the owner of the pond con
sulted Mr. Seth Green, and the latter ex
pressed his belief that the insects were de
stroying the trout. " The cause is," he
writes, " that; you have no quick-running
water, like a creek, with gravel bottom, run
ning in your pond. By having such a place,
when any insect is fastened on a trout, he
will go to the quick-running water, and will
soon rub it off. Putting trout in a pond
with mud and weedy bottom that contains
water-insects, and no stream flowing into it,
is like tying a man s hands and placing him

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

where there are plenty of mosquitoes, gnats,
and black flies. The running water and
gravelly bottom answer the same purpose
in keeping the trout free from insects as
our hands do in keeping the mosquitoes
from us."

Management of the Bedding in Sleeping-
Cars. A writer in the Sanitary Journal, of
Toronto, calls public attention to a source
of danger existing in the sleeping-arrange
ments of certain railway-carriages. The
beds in each section are opened out at
night, after having been tightly closed for a
period of twelve or fourteen hours. " Into
these beds," says the author, " a stranger
enters, probably partially recovered from
some infectious disease, such as small-pox,
scarlet fever, etc. ,He makes his exit, and
at once these beds are closed and fastened
down carefully again until the following
night, when the same process of bed-making
is observed, with a change of sheeting, as
the case may be." The remedy suggested
by the author does not appear to be suffi
cient : it consists simply of perforations in
the bed-casings, with openings outward, so
as not to communicate with the interior of
the coach. But, if by this plan the germs
of contagious disease are not destroyed, the
bedding at least will be aired to some ex
tent, and this will be no slight advantage.

1 Neglected Naturalist. Under the title
of "A Neglected Naturalist," Mr. H. E.
Copeland contributes to the American Nat
uralist a vindication of Constantine S. Rafi-
nesque against the aspersions cast upon his
scientific work by European and American
critics. It is charged that the work done
by Rafinesque only introduced confusion
into botany and zoology by needlessly mul
tiplying genera and species. But, accord
ing to the author, " thirteen genera, eight
sub-genera, and sixteen species of the plants
referred to in Gray s manual} are his. His
writings on conchology have been considered
worth editing by Binney and Tryon. Of our
reptiles and batrachians four genera and
six species bear his name, fle described
four genera and four species that are re
tained in the current literature treating of
our mammals. The genus Helmitherus of

birds was proposed by him." In 1820 Ra
finesque published a "Natural History of
the Fishes of the Ohio River." Mr. Cope-
land declares himself to be profoundly im
pressed by the accuracy of the work of
Rafinesque as represented by this little vol
ume. Of seventy-nine genera and one hun
dred and fifteen species of fishes known as
inhabiting the Ohio and its tributaries twen
ty-nine genera and thirty-seven species were
first described by this neglected naturalist,
and the eliminating of seasonal and sexual
forms from the rank of species, and the
identifying of more of his genera on a bet
ter acquaintance with the fishes of the Ohio,
will constantly make the ratio greater.

Marsh- Water as a Vehicle of Ague-Poison.

In his volume on "Practical Hygiene " the
late Dr. Parkes adduces a number of facts
to show that ncarsh-water is a vehicle of
ague-poison. The more commonly-received
opinion, however, is that the air of marshes
is the sole cause of intermittent fevers.
Certain observations made at Tilbury Fort,
on the river Thames, appear to confirm Dr.
Parkes s view. In the " Army Medical
Blue-Book" it is stated that the troops at
Tilbury Fort are supplied with water col
lected on the roofs of buildings, and stored
in underground tanks at or below high-water
mark. The officials at the neighboring rail
road-station use spring-water pumped from
a well. Now ague has, for a long time, been
common among the troops at Tilbury Fort,
and almost unknown at the railroad-station.
During some cleansing and repairs to the
tanks, spring-water was obtained from the
latter source for several months together,
during which time ague disappeared from
among the soldiers at Tilbury, but on the
tank-water being again brought into use,
cases of ague again made their appearance,
the disease ceasing on discontinuing that
source of supply. Samples of water from
these different sources were submitted to
chemical analysis, when it was found that
the amount of organic matter in the tank
water was greatly in excess of that in the
spring (railway-station) water, while the
presence of vegetable and fungoid matter
made it evident that there had been soak-
age of water from the surrounding marsh
into the tanks.

MISCELLANY.

765

Dry Thunder-Storms. A correspondent
in Oregon, Missouri, communicates some
observations on weather phenomena, es
pecially upon the influence of forests on
rainfall. " When the earth has become dry,
parched, and very warm, on occasion of
thunder-storms, I have often," he writes,
"noticed for hours, while it was thundering
overhead, the mist, falling from the storm-
clouds, to roll back, after nearly reaching
the earth, in the form of lighter vapor. I
think this rain, or mist, in falling, passed
down to the stratum of very hot air on the
earth s surface, and became a steam, large
volumes of white vapor forming suddenly
and rolling back and up. Now I am con
fident that, if the earth had been shaded by
trees, this rain would have fallen on the
ground.

" This phenomenon can be seen here
every hot, dry season. It has, no doubt,
escaped the attention of all but very close
observers. Mine was called to it by a ques
tion asked while one of these dry thunder
storms was prevailing a common thing
dry thunder-storms thunder rattling over
head, but not a drop of rain falling. The
white mist is not easily observed overhead,
where all is light ; but opposite to the sun,
under the dark storm-cloud, it is very plain,
and must attract attention."

Fertilization of Plants. Mr. Thomas
Meehan discovers in the " sleep " of plants
an agent in their self-fertilization. The
fertilization of the common Claytonia Vir-
ginica had been somewhat of a mystery to
him, as, in view of the prevailing theory
of cross-fertilization by insect agency, this
plant ought not to be a self-fertilizer; but
from repeated observation he was satisfied
that no insects had visited plants that had
yet seeded abundantly. Watching the pro
cess of fertilization, he found that the sta
mens on expanding fell back on the petals
expanded during daylight. At night, when
the flower closed, the petals drew the an
thers up in close contact with the pistils.
Cross-fertilization could be accomplished
by insects if they visited the flower, but
they, did not, and actual fertilization only
occurred in this way. In many cases, es
pecially late in the season, the stamens re
curve so much as to be in a measure doub

led up by the nocturnal motion of the
petals. The anthers were not drawn into
contact with the stigmas in these cases, and,
as a result, the flowers were barren.

In the Ranunculus bulbosus, our com
mon buttercup, in the evening following
the first day s expansion of the young flow
er, the immature anthers and the young
stigmas would be found covered with pol
len-grains. The inference would generally
be, that this had been carried there by in
sects. But, as he had been especially on
the lookout for insects as visitors to the
buttercup, and feeling sure that none of
any consequence had been to them, he ex
amined these flowers carefully, and found
that, on the first expansion of the flower, a
single outer series of stamens burst their
anther-cells simultaneously with the expan
sion of the flower, and, by contracting the
cell-walls, ejected the pollen to the smooth
petals, from which it easily fell to the im
mature anthers and stigmas, when the flov/er
closed for the night.

Knowing that another species of butter
cup, the Ranunculus abortivus, had fixed
spreading petals which did not close at
night, and which, though with compara
tively large nectariferous glands full of a
liquid secretion, was wholly neglected by
insects, and yet had every flower seeding
profusely, he was anxious to find, in view
of his other discoveries, how these were
fertilized. Visiting a wood after twilight,
to ascertain if any nocturnal insects visited
them, he found that, though the petals did
not close at sundown, the slender pedicles
drooped, inverting the flowei-, and in this
way the pollen found its way from the pet
als to the stigmas without any difficulty
whatever.

Functions of the Root-Hairs of Plants.

In an article published in the Gardener s
Monthly, Prof. B. C. Hakted points out the
functions of the " root-hairs " of plants.
These so-called roor-hairs are thread-like
structures, consisting of elongated surface-
cells of the root. These hairs absorb water
out of the soil either by capillary attraction,
or by the process of diffusion, or by osmotic
action. It is a well-known fact that porous
bodies absorb liquids to a greater or less
extent. A dry cloth hung so that one

766

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

corner will dip into water soon becomes
saturated. This is capillary attraction, and
has a place in root-absorption. From an
extended study of the properties of liquids,
the law of diffusion has been established,
viz., that when two or more miscible liquids
of different densities are placed in contact,
interchange will take place till the whole
liquid is homogeneous. This property of
liquids will account for the movement of the
absorbed sap to any part of the same cell
from the tip of the hair to its base. But
there is another kind of diffusion osmose,
or membrane diffusion. When liquids of
different densities are separated by a thin
membrane, diffusion takes place through
this partition with a rapidity depending on
the nature of the liquids and membrane,
the greater flow being toward the denser
fluid. The cell-wall of a root-hair is such a
membrane, separating the denser liquid
within the cell from the thinner one with
out ; and, as this membrane is a living,
growing one, it may be specially effective
for osmotic action. From the function,
position, and delicate structure of the root-
hairs, at least one important practical con
clusion can be drawn, viz., the importance
of preserving them when a plant is to be
potted or transplanted.

The Philosophy of Dreams. Prof. Fer-
rier recently delivered, at the London In
stitution, a lecture on "Dreaming," explain
ing its phenomena by the results of his
famous experiments on the localization of
faculties in the brain. For each class of
impressions there are, he said, special re
gions of consciousness in the brain. The
impressions received are photographed on
the brain, and are capable of being revived.
But for this power of recalling them no
knowledge would be possible. Memory, or
the registration of sense-impressions, is the
ultimate basis of all our mental furniture.
Each piece of that furniture has its function,
like the letters in a compositor s case. We
have a sight-memory, a hearing-memory, etc.
When thinking, or engaged in ideation, we
are but recalling, as shown by Herbert
Spencer and Bain, our original sensations
and acts of cognition. Commonly the re
production is very faint, but in some in
stances it is nearly or quite as vivid as the

original sensation. This is especially true
of poets, painters, religious enthusiasts, and
others. Those portions of the brain which
are most continuously in action during
waking-hours require the longest rest dur
ing the hours of sleep. Hence the centres
of attention would sleep while the functions
allied to reflex actions would more easily
waken.

The brain in sleep Prof. Ferrier com
pared to a calm pool, in which a stone
causes ripples, liable to interruption by
other ripples similarly caused. So the rip
ples of ideation get confused. But, again,
the circle on the pool may not be interrupt
ed, and then the ideation will be regular.
The current of ideation may be coherent or
incoherent. The most vivid association,
which is commonly the latest, dominates
over the rest. Dr. Reid, the metaphysician,
once dreamed of being scalped there was
a blister upon his head. Dr. Gregory, from
having a bottle of hot water at his feet,
dreamed of walking up the crater of Etna.
Visceral conditions are the most frequent
sources of dreams ; the hungry dream of
feasts, the thirsty of water, the dropsical
of drowning. Dr. Ferrier happily compares
incoherent dreaming to the changes in a
kaleidoscope. There is nothing new in
dreams; the blind do not dream that they
see, nor the deaf of music. In such cases
there is a letter missing from the font of
type. Our fancy is awake during dreams,
and the faculties which should check it are
asleep. Hence it is that nothing surprises
us in dreaming.

Locusts in Africa. In his work, "The
Victoria Falls of the Zambezi," Eduard
Mohr gives an impressive description of a
flight of locusts witnessed by him in the
region of the Vaal River. "I noticed," he
writes, "on the western horizon what I
took to be columns of smoke, rising higher
and higher until they reached the zenith.
I thought the bush must have been set on
fire, for the whole of the horizon from the
northwest to the southeast was already ap
parently enveloped in clouds of smoke.
This, however, was caused by no fire, but
by locusts. Presently a few, then dozen?,
then hundreds, then thousands, of locusts
fell upon us, coming down in such heavy

NOTES.

767

showers that the air was darkened with
them ; and through the whizzing, whirling
veil they flung about us we could look with
the naked eye at the sun, which, although
high in the heavens, had the blood-red,
rayless appearance usually peculiar to the
time of setting." He adds that the natives,
with their horses and cattle, as well as ele
phants and other wild ruminants, feed on
them greedily ; the author found them per
fectly tasteless.

Natural History in New Guinea. The

Italian naturalist, D Albertis, continues his
explorations and studies of natural history
in the island of New Guinea. He recently
made the ascent of a mountain 1,200 feet
high, on Yule Island, obtaining a good view
of the plains watered by the Aniama River.
This river D Albertis has partly ascended
on several occasions ; he states that it
traverses an extensive and fertile district
well suited for grazing. The Nicura River,
into which the Amama debouches, is bor
dered by mangroves, eucalyptus, grass-
trees, etc. He remarks that the natives
appear everywhere ignorant of the uses of
metals ; and he is of opinion that Wallace
and others are right in recognizing the
existence of two races in the island. The
aborigines he considers are confined to the
western and interior portions, while the in
habitants in the other parts represent a
taller, lighter-colored, and more intelligent
race, which displaced the older tenants.

Sulphide of Carbon as an Insecticide

The use of carbon sulphide is recommended
by J. B. Schnetzler, of the Lausanne Acad
emy, as a means of destroying the insects
which infest herbaria and entomological
collections. The Academy collection of
Swiss flowering-plants having been attacked
by Anobium paniceum, M. Schnetzler had a
wooden box made large enough to contain
five fasciculi of the herbarium, each com
posed of about 200 plants. Four ounces
of carbon sulphide were poured into the five
fasciculi ; the box was tightly closed, and
the whole left for a month. All the insects
were destroyed, and no injury was done to
the specimens, or to the papers to which
they were fastened. The expense of the
operation is very small. M. Schnetzler rec
ommends that the boxes should be placed

under a shed, as in case of the escape of
vapor there might be danger of explosion.
The same process may be employed for col
lections of insects.

NOTES.

DURING the present year the United
States Fish Commission have placed in the
Hudson River 4,580,000 young shad. The
commissioners observe a steady increase in
the supply of this fish. They ask, how
ever, for legislation compelling a cessation
of fishing on Sunday.

AT the distance of 20 miles from Car
ter Station, on the Union Pacific Railway,
is situated a remarkable coal-mine. It is
about 4 miles in length, and consists of 16
veins, lying one above another, with a thin
layer of sandstone intervening. The bot
tom vein is the thinnest (5 feet), while the
one next above is over 75 feet in thickness.
A few feet above this is a vein of 60 feet,
another of 40 succeeding, and so on, mak
ing in all about 400 feet of coal. The veins
slope at an angle of about 22, and are
very easy of access.

PROF. RILEY, at a meeting of the St.
Louis Academy of Science, exhibited a Col
orado potato-beetle, which was so complete
ly covered with a mite parasite that the
point of a needle could not be placed on
any part of the beetle s body without
touching one of the parasites. He esti
mated the number of mites at 800, and
they had killed the beetle. Aside from the
toad and other reptiles, the crow, the rose-
breasted grossbeak, and domestic fowls,
among birds which prey on the Doryplura
decenlineata, Prof. Riley had in his report
figured or described no less than 23 insect-
enemies that attack and kill it. Only one
of these is a true parasite, and this mite
makes the second. It belongs to the family
Gamasidce.

AT a meeting held in London, in aid of
the fund for a memorial to the late Dr.
Parkes, a resolution was adopted which de
clared it desirable that the memorial should
take the form of a museum of hygiene. A
list of subscriptions was read amounting to
675.

EVERYWHERE in Germany carrier-pigeons
are being trained for service in time of war,
to keep up communication between the gar
risons of besieged fortresses and the mili
tary authorities. Another use of these
pigeons is suggested, viz., as a means of
conveying intelligence from light-ships to
the nearest port, in case the former are in
need of succor.

;68

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY

THE London publisher, Murray, an
nounces a new work by Mr. Darwin, entitled
"The Results of Cross and Self Fertiliza
tion in the Vegetable Kingdom."

BY subcutaneously injecting into ani
mals concentrated solutions of sodic lac-
tate, Preyer produces in them a state ap
parently identical with normal sleep. This
confirms the theory which attributes the
drowsiness caused by fatigue to the pres
ence in the blood of certain compounds (as
lactic acid) produced by the disintegration
of nervous and muscular tissue.

SOME curious statistics illustrating the
liability of the eye to injury have been
compiled by Drs. Zander and Geissler.
They assume that the mean superficies of
the human body is about fifteen square
feet, and that the mean superficies of the
orbital opening is about 180 square lines,
from which it should follow, if all parts
were equally exposed to injury, that lesions
of the eye would bear to lesions of other
parts of the body the proportion of about
one in 600. As a matter of fact, the actual
proportion is more than twenty times as
great, or about 36 in 1,000.

IT has been shown by experiment that
Prussian blue in oil is the most stable of
pigment colors. Aniline colors, on the con
trary, are the most fleeting ; indeed, they
are unsuitable for use by the painter.
Photographs tinted with aniline colors soon
lose their tints, and the colors are often
seen fading while the pictures are yet ex
posed for sale.

M. LECOQ DE BOISBAUDRAN, the discov
erer of gallium, has succeeded in reducing
to the metallic state about ten centigrammes
of the new metal. When pure, gallium
melts at the very low temperature of 85
Fahr. It adheres readily to glass, forming
a whiter mirror than mercury, but its low
fusion temperature makes it practically use
less for this purpose. It oxidizes very
slightly when heated to redness, but does
not volatilize.

A PATIENT in the Royal Infirmary, Edin
burgh, who suifered from cancer of the
tongue, bad the organ amputated, except
about half an inch. The operation was suc
cessful and the patient now speaks quite
distinctly ; in doing so he seems to tilt up
ward and forward both the hyoid bone and
the larynx.

^ AT the National Glass Company s works,
Beilaire, Ohio, lamp-chimneys are made by
a process resembling that of De la Bastie.
A local newspaper writer mentions having
seen an eightpenny-nail driven through a
board an inch and a half thick with one of
these chimneys of hardened glass.

THE nickel-mine near Lancaster, Penn
sylvania, yields about 6,000 tons of ore per
year. Eleven shafts have now been sunk,
ranging from 110 to 140 feet in depth, and
connected by tunnels underneath. The num
ber of men employed at the mine is 200.

CARBON occurs in the heavenly bodies in
three forms, according to Prof. J. Lawrence
Smith, viz. : the gaseous form, as detected
by the spectroscope in the attenuated mat
ter of comets; the solid form, impalpable
in its nature and diffused in small quanti
ties through pulverulent masses of mineral
matter that come to the earth from celestial
regions ; and the solid form, compact and
hard, resembling graphite, and this is im
bedded in metallic matter that comes from
regions in space. It is not necessary to as
sume that this cosmical carbon has an or
ganic origin.

A PRIZE of five hundred francs has been
offered by M. Paul Bert for the best means
of protecting the lives of aeronants and
mountain-climbers in circumstances where
cold and rarefied air become dangerous.
His prize is open to competition till the
last day of the present year.

A FIREMAN S suit, invented by a Swede
named Oestberg, is made in two layers, the
inner one of India-rubber, the outer one of
leather, the head being protected by a hel
met resembling that worn by divers. At
the girdle is fixed a piece of hose, which
serves both for air and water. The air-pipe,
fed from two blowers, is placed inside the
water-pipe, and brings the air, after being
cooled by the surrounding water, into the
inner part of the dress. The air inflates
the costume, passing away through the two
small openings made for eye-pieces. The
current of air not only keeps the inclosed
body cool, but drives smoke and flame away
from the eyes. At the back the water-pipe
divides, one branch serving as an extin
guisher, the other passing into the outer
coating of the dress, the stream being dis
tributed over the whole outer surface.
With the apparatus on, the inventor stood
in the middle of a pile of burning shavings
and logs without taking the least harm.

AN epidemic resembling cholera ap
peared among the cats in Delhi last year.
The disease was not known to extend be
yond the walls of the city, nor was it con
fined to any quarter. It gradually de
clined, and fully disappeared about Septem
ber 20th, although the cholera did not cease
till near the end of November. The num
ber of cats carried off by the disease wan
estimated at 500. The symptoms were in
almost every respect identical with those of
cholera. Experiments were made with
cholera-virus, which was found to commu
nicate an analogous disease to the cats.

EX.

PAGE

ABBOTT, C. C., Phases of Bird-Life 343

" Academy," The, for Americans HI

Academy of Natural Sciences, Philadelphia 747

Accidental Variation 750

Adder, Cunning of the 251

Adler, Felix, Hebrew Religion 589

Air, The, in Courts of Justice 756

Air-Bags for raising Ships 632

Air-Germs and Spontaneous Generation. (Illustrated.) 91

Amber, Dredging for 121

American Association at Buffalo 755

American Colleges vs. American Science 467

Amphibious Fishes. (Illustrated.) 546

Anaesthesia, Discovery of. , 506

Ancient American Civilization 118

Ancients, Backwardness of the, in Natural Science 438

Animal Powers of Offense and Defense 355

Animals, Conscience in 80

Antelope, The American . . 378

Antiseptic Properties of Thymol 381

Ants, Habits of 252

Apotheosis of Steam 430

Argentine Republic, Science in the 463

Army-Worm Moth 380

Arsenic, Detection of 637

Astronomy, Origin of 124

Aurora, Cause of the 638

Automatic Light-Register. . . > 122

Awards at the International Exhibition 69

Axes and Hatchets. (Illustrated.) 186

Babyhood, Lingual Development in 129

Backwardness of the Ancients in Natural Science 438

Bain, Alexander, Sketch of. (Portrait.) , 360

Bastian, H. Charlton, Organisms and their Media 215

" " The Invertebrate Brain 702

Bats. (Illustrated.) 523

Battle-Axe, A Stone 612

Beadle, J. H., Social Experiments in Utah ... 479

VOL. ix. 49

77 o INDEX.

PAGE

Bedding in Sleeping-Cars 764

Beer, Condensed 379

Bernstein J., Observing Interior of the Eye 684

Bigotry in Scientific Controversy 324

Bird-Life, Certain Phases of 343

Birds, Timidity of 637

Blanchard, E., Voice in Man and Animals 385, 513

Blasius s Theory of Storms. (Illustrated.) 294

Books noticed :

" The Unseen World " (Fiske) 112

" History of Natural Science " 114

u Diseases of Modern Life " (Eichardson) . , 114

" Floral Decorations " (Hassard) 115

" Memoir of Caroline Herschel " 115

" Analytical Processes " (Gill) 115

" Map of Indian Territory " (Euffner) 116

" Polytechnic Review " 116

" Fermentation " (Schtitzenberger) 245

"Memoir of Count Rumford " (Ellis) 246

" Kumford s Complete Works " 246

" Life-Histories of Birds " (Gentry) 247

" Eeport of Trustees of the Harvard Zoological Museum " 247

" Physiology of the Circulation in Plants " (Pettigrew) 247

" Eecent Advances in Physical Science " (Tait) 248

" Through and Through the Tropics " (Vincent) 248

" Early Literature of Chemistry " (Bolton) 248

" Diseases of the Nervous System " (Hammond) 249

" Painters Magazine " 249

: Magnetism and Electricity " (Guthrie) 249

" Notes on Building Construction " 249

" Legal Chemistry " (Naquet) 249

" Principal Characters of the Dinocerata " (Marsh) 249

" The Ancient Eegime " (Taine) 369

" The Warfare of Science " (White) 370

" Die 100-jahrige EepubUk" (Becker) 371

" French Political Leaders " 371

" History of the United States " (Doyle) 371

" The Childhood of Eeligions " (Clodd) 372

" Physical Basis of Immortality " (Blackwell) 372

" William Whewell " (Todhunter) 372

" The Christ of Paul" (Eeber) 873

" Meteorology and Health " (Blasius) 373

" Lessons from Nature " (Mivart) 373

"Encyclopaedia of Chemistry " 374

" Angola and the Congo " (Monteiro) 374

" Eoads, Streets, and Pavements " (Gillmore) 375

" Topographical Survey of New York " (Gardner) 375

" The American State and Statesmen " (Dix) 375

" The Bible and Science " (Weiss) 375

" The Yucca-Borer " (Eiley) 375

" Electrical Measurement " (Day) 376

INDEX. 771

Books noticed : PAQB

" The Johns Hopkins University " 370

" Prehistoric Man " (Wilson) 500

" The Wages Question " (Walker) 501

"Kecord of Science for 1875 (Baird) 502

" Manual of the Apiary (Cook) 502

" Standard Facts and Figures " (Sullivan) 502

" Proceedings of the Poughkeepsie Society of Natural Science " 502

"Man" (Nemo) 503

" Changes in a Nebula " (Holden) 503

" Public-School Question " 503

" Survey of the Territories " 503

" Memoirs of the Peabody Academy of Science " 503

" Bulletin of the Survey of the Territories " 503

" Natural History of Kerguelen Island " (Kidder) 504

" Eozodn Canadense " (Dawson) 504

" Bulletin of the United States National Museum " 504

" Transactions of the Kansas Academy of Science " 504

" The Historical Jesus of Nazareth" (Schlesinger) 504

" Bulletin of the Bussy Institution " 504

" Manual of the Vertebrates of the Northern United States " (Jordan) 504

" Condensed Classics " 504

" BuUetin of the Nuttall Ornithological Club " 505

" American Catholic Quarterly Review " 505

" Geometrical Chemistry " (Wurtz) 613

" American Cyclopaedia " 622

" Darwiniana " (Gray) 624

" Transcendentalism " (Frothingham) 627

" Life of Macaulay " (Trevelyan) 627

" Logic of Chance " (Venn) 628

" Survey of Colorado " (Hayden) 628

" Village Communities " (Maine) 629

" Penn Monthly " 629

" The Five Senses of Man " (Bernstein) 758

" Similarities of Physical and Religious Knowledge " (Bixby) 759

" Scientific Bases of Faith " (Murphy) 759

" Hay-Fever " (Beard) 760

" Hygiene of the United States Army " (Billings) 760

" Report on the Insects of Missouri " (Riley) 761

" Geological Agency of Lateral Pressure " (Niles) 761

" Geographical Variation in Mammals " (Allen) 761

" Kansas Horticultural Society " 761

" The Constants of Nature " (Clarke) 762

" Arckivos do Museu Nacional " 762

Boring-Moth from Florida 494

Boyd, David, Science and the Logicians 224

Brain, The Invertebrate 702

Brain-Weight and Mental Power 254

Buckland, Frank, Natural Trumpet of the Crane 137

Buffalo, Destruction of the 377

Cameron, Lieutenant, his Explorations 381

7?2 INDEX.

PAGE

Cause of the Aurora 638

Centennial Exhibition, New Departure at the 106

Certain Phases of Bird-Life 343

Challenger, Cruise of the 630

Ohanning, "W. F., Organized Homesteads 733

Character and Work of Liebig 49

Chromis Pater-Familias. (Illustrated.) 322

Circulation, Oceanic 506

Clarke, F. 0., Hypnotism 211

Clarke, F. W., CoUeges and Science 467

Climatology of New Zealand 119

Clothing the Young 122

Coal in Pennsylvania 507

Coal-Gas as Fuel 635

Cochineal Cactus, Culture of the 636

Cold of the Ice-Period, Causes of 280

Cold, Effects of, on Milk 635

Colleges, American, w. American Science 467

Color, The Constants of. (Illustrated.) 641

Concrete Construction 509

Condensed Beer 379

" Conflict," The, and the " Warfare " 757

Congress of German Anthropologists 120

Conrad, Y. L., Blasius s Theory of Storms 294

Conscience in Animals 80

Cornwall, Prof. H. B., Petroleum 140

Crane, Natural Trumpet of the. (Illustrated.) 137

Criminal Justice in 1876 498

Crocodile, Habitat of the 124

Crookes, W., Mechanical Action of Light 257

Cunning of the Adder 251

Dallinger, Eev. W. H., Spontaneous Generation 448

Daly, 0. P., Geographical Progress 37

Daly, Judge, his Address 108

Deems, Rev. C. F., Science and Religion 239

Destruction of the Buffalo 377

Diamond-Fields of South Africa 378

Distances, Measuring, by Sound 251

Dreams, Philosophy of 766

Dredging for Amber 121

Drunkard, Body-Temperature of the 507

Dry Thunder-Storras. .- 765

Early Western Explorers 493

Electricity, Lessons in. (Illustrated.) 30, 158, 331

English Philosophy in Germany 243

Eucalypti as Timber-Trees 509

Evolution, Mathematics in 202

Experiments on Hypnotism 211

Exploration of Victoria Cave. ... 125

INDEX. 773

PAGB

Eye, Observing Interior of the. (Illustrated.) 684

Fattening Oysters 637

Fauna, Winter, of Mount Marcy 509

Fight between Mouse and Scorpion 377

Fishes, Amphibious. (Illustrated.) 546

" Night-Habits of 632

Fishing for Glass Sponges 120

Fitting Recognition of American Science 290

Flint, Dr. Austin, Jr., Sketch of. (Portrait.) 103

Foliage, Periodic Movements of 634

Forestry 632

Forests, Underground, in Thames Valley 255

Formation of Lakes 539

" " Mountain-Chains 253

Fossils, Recently -Discovered 631

Geographical Progress, Recent 37

Geography, Modern Scientific. (Illustrated.) T13

Germination, Temperature of 121

Glacial Phenomena 381

Glaciers, The Polar 178

Glass Sponges, Fishing for 120

Granite, A Mountain of 123

Grasshoppers, The Western 749

Halstead, Byron D., Moulds 398

Hamilton on Social Science 619

Hamilton, R. S., Present Status of Social Science 602

Hammers and Percussion. (Illustrated.) 11

Heat, The New Philosophy of 363

Hebrew Religion, Evolution of 589

Herschel, Caroline L. II 58

Hints for the Sick-Room 173

Hittell, J. S., Apotheosis of Steam 430

Holland, Major, Myriapods 570

Homesteads and Households, Organized 733

Hospitals and Pauperism 738

Houses for the Industrious Poor 508

Houses, New, Unhealthiness of. 117

Huxley, J. H., Species 409

Huxley s Lectures 500, 621

Hypnotism, Experiments on 211

" Spontaneous 633

Ice, Streams dammed by Drift 379

lies, G., Mathematics in Evolution 202

Industrial Applications of Solar Heat 550

Infants, Medication of 255

Ingersoll, Ernest, Mollusks of the Rocky Mountains 43

774 INDEX.

PAGE

Insect Parasites in Trout-Ponds 763

Justice, Criminal, in 1876 498

Klein, H. J., Scientific Geography 713

Lakes, Formation of 539

Lessons in Electricity. (Illustrated.) 30, 158, 331

Lettuce for Silkworms 121

Lewes, G. H., Sketch of. (Portrait.) 743

Liebig, his Character and Work 49

" Statue to 618

Light, Mechanical Action of. (Illustrated.) 257

" Colored, Treatment of Lunatics with 634

Light-Registering Machine 122

Lingual Development in Babyhood 129

Littrow, Carl von, Backwardness of the Ancients in Science 438

Loan Exhibition in London 510

Local Distribution of Plants 676

Locust of the Eocky Mountains 377

Locusts in Africa 766

Lortet, The Chromis Pater- Familias 322

Loss of Self-Control in Battle 507

Lubbock on the Habits of Ants 252

Lunatics, Treatment of, with Colored Light 634

Malaria 416

Marsh-Water as a Vehicle of Ague-Poison 764

Mathematics in Evolution 202

Mayer, Prof., on Sound 633

McCosh, Dr. J., The Supernatural 21

Measuring Distances by Sound 251

Meat, Methods of preserving 125

Mechanical Action of Light. (Illustrated.) 257

Medals, The Rumford 244

Medication of Infants 255

Mello, Rev. J. M., Rock-Structure . 426

Menopoma AllegJianiense 763

Merriman, C. C., Polar Glaciers 178

Meteorites, Source and Composition of 382

Mississippi River, how it wears away its Banks 380

Mivart, St. George, What are Bats ? 523

Modern Scientific Geography. (Illustrated.) 713

Mollusks of the Rocky Mountains 43

Money, Paper, French Experiments with 615

Monstrosities, Cause of 123

Moth, A, that bores for its Food 250

Moulds, Our Common. (Illustrated.) 398

Mound-Builders, A Relic of the 510

Mountain-Chains, Formation of 253

INDEX. 775

9JOU

Mount Marcy, Winter Fauna of 509

Musical Tones, Perception of. . 382

Myriapods. (Illustrated.) 570

Natural History in New Guinea 767

Natural Trumpet of the Crane. (Illustrated.) 137

Naturalist, A Neglected 764

Nature of Invertebrate Brain. (Illustrated.) 702

New Guinea, People of 507

New Houses, Unhealthiness of , 117

New Zealand, Climatology of 119

Newberry, J. 8., Cold of Ice Period 280

Newberry, Prof. J. S., Sketch of. (Portrait.) 490

Notes 126, 255, 385, 511, 639

Observing Interior of Eye. (Illustrated.) 684

Oceanic Circulation 506

Odling, William, The Revived Theory of Phlogiston 560

Ordeals and Oaths 307

Organisms and their Media 215

Organized Homesteads and Households 733

Ostrich-Farming 636

Oysters, Fattening , 637

Paper-Money, French Experiments with 615

Pauperism and Hospitals 738

Pennsylvania Coal 507

Periodic Movements of Foliage 634

Petroleum 140

Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences 506

Philosophy, English, in Germany 243

" of Dreams 766

Phlogiston, The Revived Theory of 560

Pig, The Prehistoric 631

Plants, Fertilization of 765

" Local Distribution of 676

Polar Glaciers, The 178

Predatory and Industrial Societies 718

Prehistoric Relics at the Centennial Exhibition 508

Prepossessions regarding the Supernatural 21

Preservation of Zoological Specimens 254

Probable Age of the World 649

Promotion of Science > 494

Putrid Blood, Toxic Action of. 635

Radiometer, The 364

Rattlesnakes and their Bites 123

Recent Advances in Telegraphy. (Illustrated.) 71

Recent Geographical Progress 37

Relic of Mound-Builders 510

77 6 INDEX.

PAGE

Religion, What constitutes 239

" Hebrew, Evolution of 589

" and Science as Allies 690

Rigg, Rev. A., Axes, Hammers, etc 11, 186

Riordan, R. , Recent Advances in Telegraphy 71

Roberts, Dr., on Spontaneous Generation 638

Rock-Structure. (Illustrated.) 426

Rogers, Prof, William B. , Sketch of. (Portrait.) ^ 606

Romanes, G. J., Conscience in Animals 80

Rood, 0. K, Constants of Color 641

Root-Hairs of Plants 765

Riicker, Prof., Soap-Bubbles 675

Rumford, Count, Sketch of. (Portrait.) 231

Rumford Medals, The 244

Russel, Dr. 0. P., Malaria 416

Russell, I., " Uncertainty and Vanity of Science " 351

Russell, I. 0., Formation of Lakes 539

Salt Lake, Ancient Condition of 633

Sauvage, E., Amphibious Fishes 546

Schlitzenberger, P., Air- Germs and Spontaneous Generation 91

Science and the Logicians ,. 224

" in the Argentine Republic 46

" and Religion as Allies 690

" The Promotion of. 494

" Social, its Present Status 602

" Teaching for the Young 119

Scorpion and Mouse, Fight between 377

Sea-Soundings without a Line 252

Ships, Air-Bags for raising 632

Shooting-Stars 637

Sick-Room, Hints for the 173

Silica, Appropriation of, by Plants 631

Silkworms, Lettuce for 121

Simonin, Louis, Industrial Applications of Solar Heat. 550

Soap-Bubbles 575

Social Experiments in Utah 479

" Science, Present Status of 602

" " Hamilton on 619

Societies, Predatory and Industrial 718

Society an Organism 1

Solar Heat, Industrial Applications of 550

Sound, Prof. Mayer on 633

" Measuring Distances by 251

" The Controversy about 751

Sounds produced by blowing into Flame 125

South-African Diamond-Fields 378

South Carolina, Subterranean Streams in ... , 197

Species 409

" Transformation of. . 122

INDEX. 777

Spencer, Herbert, Society an Organism 1

" Predatory and Industrial Societies 718

Spider, A Sound-Producing 383

Spontaneous Generation, Air-Gernis and. (Illustrated.) 91, 448, 638

" Hypnotism 633

Steam, Apotheosis of 430

Stone Battle-Axe 612

Stonehenge, Who erected 750

Storms, Blasius s Theory of. (Illustrated.) 294

Strain, Effects of, on Magnetism of Soft Iron 124

Streams, Damming of, by Ice , 379

Subterranean Streams in South Carolina 197

Suez Canal, its Present Condition 508

Sulphide of Carbon as an Insecticide 767

Sunday and the Centennial Exhibition 364

Supernatural, Prepossessions for and against the 21

Taine, Hippolyte, Lingual Development in Babyhood 129

Tanning Process, A New 118

Telegraphy, Recent Advances in. (Illustrated.) 71

Temperature of Germination 121

Thompson, Benjamin, Sketch of. (Portrait.) 231

Thomson, Wyville, ou Oceanic Circulation 506

Thudichum, Dr. J. L. W., Character of Liebig 49

Thunder-Storms, Dry 765

Thymol, its Antiseptic Properties 381

Trades, Unhealthy 634

Transformation of Species 122

Trumpet of the Crane. (Illustrated.) 137

Tylor, Ordeals and Oaths 307

Tyndall, Prof. John, Lessons in Electricity 30, 158, 331

" Uncertainty and Vanity of Science " 351

Unhealthy Trades 634

Utah, Social Experiments in 479

Variation, Accidental 750

Vegetarianism 118

Victoria Cave, Exploration of 125

Vivisection in England 382

Voice in Man and Animals 385, 513

Ward, L. F., Local Distribution of Plants 767

Water-Hammer 362

Weddas of Ceylon 120

"What are Species ? 409

What constitutes Religion ? 239

Wheeler, C. G., Science in Argentine Republic 463

Who shall study the Babies ? 241

778 INDEX.

PAGE

Wilson, Kev. Kobert 197

World, Probable Age of the. . 649

Wylie, W. Gill, Hospitals and Pauperism 738

Youmans, Eliza A., Caroline Herschel 58

Zoological Specimens, Preservation of 254

END OF VOL. IX.

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